Infinite Anguish
by njhill22
Summary: How much tragedy can one take? Harry has exceeded his limit and it is visible to all. He must learn to cope while tackling his most dangerous adventure of all...destroying the remaining Horcruxes. Harry, OC pairing
1. Needing To Leave

**_A/N: This story is set in the trio's 7th year going along with the plot in book 6._ **

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**Chapter 1 -Needing To Leave**

"How'd your parents take it?" Ron asked.  
Hermione's trunk and bags lowered to the floor following the actions of her wand. "They would have opposed more if they knew school really hasn't closed down. Besides, they don't know what we're really doing."  
"Shall we go get Harry then? I reckon he's been there long enough."

Harry had wasted the first two weeks at the Dursley's without the knowledge that the underage wizarding law had been lifted. When the letter arrived, the first thing he did was hex Dudley for pushing him out of the way so he could get to the bathroom first. That night was the first time he was well fed since he had lived with the Dursley's, though it was nothing compared to Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

The newly gained knowledge of Harry being able to do magic outside of school did nothing to change the Dursley's overall treatment of him. There were many occasions Harry could have used magic on them for the way they were treating him, but he did not see any gain. In fact, their general neglect never really registered to him. His thoughts remained at Hogwarts.

Not a night went by when his dreams weren't haunted. His dreams, more nightmares, were reliving one of the worst days in his memory. He almost rather be dreaming of Voldemort torturing people again. _Almost._ Though, lately he had started to contemplate that. He wanted to know what he was thinking, where he was, what he was doing…maybe it would give him a clue. He needed to destroy the remaining Horcruxes. Harry tried to concentrate. He needed to format a plan. It was useless, his mind simply would not focus on the task at hand.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled.  
Harry habitually went downstairs where his uncle waited for him. "Yeah?" He said barely audible, staring at the floor with his shoulders slumped.  
Vernon was silent. Harry glanced up to see why he was not responding. He was eyeing him suspiciously. "Petunia! Come here and fix him!"

She came to the foot of the stairs where they were standing. She let out an annoyed sigh and grabbed Harry's shoulders, adjusting them into a proper posture position. This was the Dursley's way of being nice to him...

"Your dinner is on the counter," Vernon said. "This time you better eat or else those…_people_ will threaten us again."

The Dursley's had been making Harry eat dinner at the table with them every night in an attempt to avoid threats and his possible hexes. It was more than obvious that Aunt Petunia grew annoyed by his lack of appetite since she was giving him normal sized portions now. Tonight was no exception as he again had no appetite. Five forkfuls into the meal, he felt like he was going to be sick if he continued. He put his fork down, preparing to excuse himself, but he saw Uncle Vernon's face. Harry closed his eyes and imagined himself at The Burrow, surrounded by the Weasley clan. Ginny was sitting next to him, holding his hand under the table to avoid being glared at by Ron. He opened is eyes to find the Dursley's all staring at him. He picked his fork back up and forced himself to eat.

Harry cleared the table out of the many years of conditioning. _Accio wand!_ His nonverbal spell skills had improved immensely since learning he could practice. The dishes began to clean themselves and the horrified Dursley's rushed out of sight, mumbling irritably as they left.

Thus far, speaking was something Harry rarely did this summer. Practicing magic was strictly kept to nonverbal as well. The sound of his own voice only made him feel worse…if that was even possible. Dead parents, dead godfather, dead father figure Dumbledore, no more girlfriend and soon to be no more best friends after they find out that he ditched them to go on his search for Horcruxes on his own as he had originally planned.

The last of the dishes were put back in place and Harry leaned against the counter, staring at nothing in particular.

_Crack!  
Crack!_

Everyone in the living room was now screaming. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and spirited in the direction of Uncle Vernon's yelling voice. Rounding the corner, his wand at the ready, he found Ron standing idly and Hermione cringing as Vernon yelled at them. Harry decided now would be a good time to mute Uncle Vernon and he did so nonverbally. Ron and Hermione smiled as soon as they realized what had happened. Vernon, on the other hand, had turned to face Harry, the veins in his neck and forehead pulsating and face reddened, attempting to yell at him. He performed the counter-jinx when Ron and Hermione were safely upstairs.

"Harry?" Hermione said, "Why are all of your things packed? You couldn't have possibly known that we were coming."  
Harry didn't say anything. He had planned to leave that night without any way for them to know where he could have gone.  
"Harry…" Ron said. "Were you…going to leave?" Harry still did not respond and stared at his trunk and bags by his bed.  
Hermione started going through her robes, pulling out some parchment. "We brought you this." She handed Harry the parchment. "It's an Apparition License. T-they're giving them out to everyone who successfully apparated in the lessons." He stared at it, knowing that he had not made a full apparition during the school year. "I presume they already know you can." She added.  
"Ow!" Ron said as he rubbed his side. "Right. Um, yeah. G-ginny…says hi."  
"She can't wait to see you, Harry." Hermione said. He shoved the license in his pocket and still said nothing. He wished they would leave…and not have mentioned Ginny. "The wedding is tomorrow, I hope you packed your dress robes." He nodded. He had packed everything he owned.  
"Why won't you talk to us?" Ron asked. "Ow! Stop hitting me!"  
"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked more tactfully. "You can tell us anything."  
He stood there. He knew exactly what he had to say and he knew it wasn't going to go over well. "I…I-I want you guys to leave." He whispered.  
"Leave! We're not leaving!" Ron looked stunned. "If anything w-"  
"I want you guys to leave, I don't want either of you to come with me, I'm not going to the wedding, I don't want you to try to contact me once I've gone and I don't want you to tell Ginny I said hello." Harry said, slightly louder than he did last time.  
"Don't be silly, Harry." Hermione said. "We're coming with you so just get used to the idea." She went over and grabbed one of his bags and with a crack she was gone.  
"C'mon mate." Ron said, going for Harry's trunk.  
"Ron, I can't." He said. It was too late, Ron was gone. "Damnit."

Harry walked downstairs. This was the last time he would probably ever see the Dursley's. He told them so and thanked them for allowing him to stay all of these years even though it was more than obvious they didn't want anything to do with him. Uncle Vernon nodded to acknowledge that he had in fact done this, but to Harry's surprise, did not make any vindictive remarks about it. Aunt Petunia and Dudley merely stared at him. He said good bye and apparated to The Burrow. What greeted him was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. Ginny with a welcoming embrace. He didn't hug her back and stood there with his arms at his side.

"Oh will you stop being noble." Ginny said with a smile as she placed his arms around her.  
He let his arms drop immediately and backed away from her. "I shouldn't be here. I need to leave." His eyes scanned the room for his belongings.  
"No, what you need is to sit down and tell us what's wrong and why you're acting so distant." Hermione said, coming in from the kitchen with some tea.

By no means had Harry planned on telling them anything, yet somehow he told them everything. He answered every one of their questions to the best of his ability. Stealing Snape's supply of Veritaserum before leaving last year did not work out in his favor...


	2. High School Dropouts

**Chapter 2 - High School Dropouts**

They had in fact stolen quite a bit from Snape's office before they left Hogwarts for the summer. As much as their backpacks and hands could carry. Harry had even made a point to go to the Room of Requirement to get his, well Snape's, Potions textbook. Hermione even agreed that the textbook would come in handy, but they really needed to be careful about the spells that were written in the margins. Especially since Harry almost killed Malfoy with the Sectumsempra spell during the school year. Regardless, Harry was internally cursing himself for taking the Veritaserum as he answered Hermione and Ron's questions.

"Now Harry," Hermoine asked after he took a sip of the tea she offered him. "Is there something wrong?"  
"Yes, everything's wrong." Harry said quite quickly.  
"Why did you have your bags packed already?" Ron asked.  
"Because I was going to leave without you guys. This is my burden, I have to do it on my own. I knew you guys wouldn't agree, so I was going to leave before you came to get me, regardless of the consequences it might cause."  
"Ow! Hermoine, if you don't s-"  
"Ron, that was an obvious answer, so don't ask stupid questions!" Hermione interjected. "Now Harry, what's wrong. You seem quite…down."  
"I can't do this anymore." Harry said shakily. "Everyone…e-everyone just dies. This time I want to make sure it will just be me."  
There was a long silence before Hermione spoke again. "Where did you plan on going?"  
"I'm going after Mundungus, I want Sir- my stuff back. He stole it." Harry said. He didn't know how much of Sirius' things he had taken, but he was prepared to do whatever he had to to get it from him. "I'll kill him if I have to."  
There was another long silence. "And after that?" Ron asked.  
"I'll have to find the other house objects that were used as Horcruxes. I have to go to Grimmauld Place, because the Slytherin locket Horcrux is there and I might have to go back into Hogwarts, because…" Harry started to come to his senses as the Veritaserum was wearing off.  
"Because what?" Ron said.  
"I only put one drop in…" Hermione said dejectedly. "It's wearing off."  
"Harry!" Ginny said frantically. Harry turned his head to face her. There was a sense of urgency in her eyes. "Do you still have feelings for me?"

The urge to say yes was still strong, but he was able to fight it off. He did not respond to her question.

She came and knelt in front of where he was sitting on the couch and took his hand. "Please answer me, Harry."

He looked away from her. Ron and Hermione had conveniently left the room and he could hear them bickering in the kitchen. He turned to look back at Ginny after she said his name again.

"I still do." Her face lit up. "But it's not the same as it once was." He added and her face fell.  
She was sitting next to him on the couch now. Very close. She leaned in and kissed him softly. "Are you sure?"  
He let out a shaky breath. It really wasn't the same. "Yes."

The Veritaserum completely wore off. Harry left Ginny on the couch and went to kitchen where he heard Hermione telling Ron to grow up. He turned to look at Ginny, but she was already gone. Ron and Hermione had stopped arguing when they saw him.

"It was her idea!" Ron immediately stated, pointing at Hermione.  
Hermione glared at him, but then turned to Harry. "I'm really sorry, but you had us worried. We couldn't think of any other way to get you to talk to us."  
Harry didn't respond to her statement. "Where is everyone?"  
"You honestly don't think that Bill and Fleur would be getting married here did you mate? Everyone is already at Hogsmeade. They're getting married on a nice piece of land just south of there."  
"We already took your things there." Hermione added.

They each apparated there, with Ginny holding onto Ron's arm since she couldn't legally yet. They appeared in front of The Three Broomsticks and went inside to get a butterbeer. As usual, people stared at Harry. He heard a few whisperings of 'The Chosen One' as he passed tables. He flattened his hair over his scar which never stayed down. He tried a spell on his hair a few times while at the Dursley's. They worked…for five minutes. He knew he was doing it right too, because he had tried it on a poodle that lived a few houses down from them. He cursed his inherited hair from his father internally.

They did not stay at The Three Broomsticks, they left as soon as each of them practically downed their drinks. The uncomfortable silence ensued as they all walked to the place where the Weasley and Delacour clans were staying. Luckily for the Weasley's, the Delacour family was quite wealthy in comparison and was paying for most of the wedding expenses. They were greeted by Bill when they arrived. Bill's wounds had not healed well. The scars were terrible. He resembled Professor Lupin after a particularly bad night. The skin where the scars were were a shade of purple. The doctors at St. Mungo's said they would most likely always remain that way. Unfortunately for Bill, he was no longer the handsome man he once was. Thankfully though, Fleur's love for him was more than skin deep.

"We're about to have dinner in the Great Room." Bill said. "I'm still surprised they have a room big enough to fit all of us in."  
"I already ate." Harry said while turning to go look for his room. There were protests, but he turned a corner before anyone had the chance to stop him.

Harry found his room and locked the two locks on the door. He did not want to be disturbed for the remainder of the night. His voice felt strained. It was the most he had spoken all summer and he did not look forward to having to speak tomorrow. He shuddered at the thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They always asked so many questions when they first saw him and he really wasn't up to answering them. There were various knocks on his door later, but he did not answer nor did they attempt to enter his room. Though, he was sure he heard a female voice, surely to be Mrs. Weasley, scolding Fred and George for getting ready to use magic to unlock the door. Harry was left alone to drift in and out of sleep for the remainder of the night, waking up each time when he saw the green light come out of the wand.

The wedding itself was an extravagant event. White chairs lined the green land, while the isle was lined with white roses and blue stephanotis. At the front, an extravagant trellis, with the same flowers intertwined, stood where Bill and Fleur said their 'I do's'. Fleur wore and elegant white, thin strapped dress that was laced with intricate beading, while Bill wore a black tux with a vest that was the same shade as the blue stephanotis flowers. Harry sat in the second row on the right side, making Bill's scars very visible to him. The fact of the matter is that he could probably still see them if he was sitting in the last row.

Luckily for Harry, everyone was so flustered before the wedding that no one had really spoken to him, though that might have also had something to do with the fact that he didn't come out of his room until the last possible minute. He didn't even pay attention during the wedding. He sat there in a daze while staring at the back of the chair in front of him. He snapped out of his daze when he heard the applause and looked up to see Bill and Fleur kissing. They were now husband and wife. This would be the end of the blissful silence his voice was in.

The reception broke that silence as the dreaded interrogations began. In his attempt to hide from the Weasleys, he ran into Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, who was most anxious to introduce him to her mother and father.

"Zis iz ze boy zat zaved me during ze tournament yearz ago." Gabrielle said.  
Mrs. Delacour kissed Harry on both cheeks and he felt his face grow warm. "Gabrielle 'az zpoke very 'ighly of you, 'Arry Potter. It iz zo good to finally meet you."  
Harry faintly smiled as he shook her hand, then Mr. Delacour's.  
"Ever zince I found out zat Fleur and Gabrielle 'ad met ze 'Arry Potter, I've been zo envious." He said. "But now I've been given ze zame diztinct pleazure. It really iz an 'onor to meet you, 'Arry."  
Harry merely nodded his head.  
"Zuch modezty coming from zuch a 'ero. Only makez you more admirable." Exactly what Harry didn't want. "May I introduce you to zome family of mine?"  
Harry endured seventeen Delacour family introductions before Mr. Weasley bumped into them.  
"Well, it waz good to meet you 'Arry." Mr. Delacour said as Mr. Weasley and Harry started in another direction.

The rest of the reception was a blur. Harry was in such a daze that he could only remember a few moments. Ron and Hermione arguing, Ron and Hermione dancing, arguing, dancing, etc. Ginny was the subject of two Delacour boys affections and she seemed to be enjoying the attention, though she kept glancing over at Harry every chance she got, and Mrs. Weasley was frequently yelling at Fred and George for promoting and testing their latest products on guests.

His mind seemed to have blocked out all of the times he was forced to speak. For the most part, he tried to keep to himself as much as he could, but that was hard considering who he was. The firewhiskey helped with that. As did the wine. And the champagne. It's probably why most of the day and night was such a blur. At least that's what he figured the next morning when he woke up with a hangover. His mind wasn't functioning properly and couldn't think of a spell to make himself feel better. He wandered down to The Great Room where everyone, minus Bill and Fleur who were on their honeymoon, would be having breakfast. Sure enough, the majority of the wedding guests were in there. Quite a few people stared at Harry as he took a seat next to Ron, who smirked at him when he sat down.

"You had a fun time last night didn't you?" Ron said. "You look like hell though."

Ron took out his wand and said something that Harry's mind couldn't comprehend. He instantly felt better.

"Thanks." Harry said gratefully.  
"So, you have to tell me, who was that girl?"  
"What girl?"  
"Oh wow, you really did have a lot to drink, didn't ya mate?" Ron said sounding amused. "You were talking to this girl. She was one of the servers. I haven't heard you laugh like that in awhile."  
"I…I don't remember."

The last thing Harry remembered was getting a drink from the bartender and then seeing someone with a food tray. That must have been her...

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The muggle term 'high school dropout' came to Harry's mind. That's exactly what they all were now. He had no parents to care. Hermione's parents had been told a lie. Ron's parents, on the other hand, didn't exactly approve of him leaving school to go on some misadventure. Well, more Mrs. Weasley didn't approve of it. However, since Ron was considered an 'adult' in the wizarding world, his mother hardly had any control over it. Harry kept hearing her say, "My three sons, the Hogwarts dropouts." Then she would turn to Ginny and beg her not to drop out of school too.

After saying their goodbyes, the trio converged in Harry's room to discuss their plans of action. Hermione and Ron both thought that they should go to Grimmauld Place first to find the locket. Harry wanted to get his things back from Mundungus.

"But Harry," Hermione said. "You don't even know if the locket is still there. Shouldn't we at least check first?" Ron nodded in agreement.  
Harry was becoming annoyed. "Fine. Kreacher!"  
_Crack_  
"Yes master?" Kreacker said in a condescending tone, then mumbled, "It's the blood traitor and the mudblood again. Such retched company."  
"Is the locket still in the house? You know, the heavy one that no one can open."  
"No sir. It was taken along with the goblet, music box, the Black ring…" Kreacher started sobbing uncontrollably. The ring had been one of Kreacher's most prized memories of the 'real' Black family after all.  
"Was that all?" Kreacher nodded. "You may go." Kreacher mumbled something about Harry being a terrible master compared to the Mistress before disappearing. "There, are you happy now! It's not there!"

They both stared at Harry from his sudden outburst. Kreacher tended to bring that part of him out and he made no apology about it. The only problem now was that they didn't know where Mundungus lived, just that it was somewhere in London. Someone in the Order would help and they each agreed that they should ask Tonks.

Tonks appeared to be in a much better state from the time they had last seen her. She was not able to attend Bill and Fleur's wedding, because she was doing some order related business that could not be avoided that day. She must have stopped blaming herself for what happened to Sirius that night at the Ministry. Moreover, it seemed that Remus had finally come around, after much cajoling, and allowed himself to get involved in a relationship with her. Her signature pink hair was a testament to this. She looked genuinely happy.

All Harry wanted to do was get the information from Tonks and leave. He did not like to waste time when it came to things such as this. Naturally then, time must be wasted. Tonks insisted that they stay for awhile before terrorizing Mundungus. Not that she minded the idea.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked.  
"Out on Order business. I don't even know what he's doing. I suspect it has to do with other werewolves though." Tonks said. "I hate when they send him to be around that lot."  
"That's just mad. I can't believe they're still making him do that." Ron said. "Completely mental."  
"Especially now that we think a few of them know who he is and who he works for. It's only a matter of time now." Tonks said. "He should have been back by now."  
Hermione rubbed her back reassuringly. "Since when has anyone come back from a task set out by the Order exactly on time?"  
Tonks nodded. "A very good point you make there."

Harry became more anxious to leave with each passing minute, until finally his wish was granted. They were finally off to Mundungus'. They arrived in front of a very unimpressive house that gave the appearance of a shanty. Maybe he really did need the money if this was all he could afford. They didn't bother to knock, they, more Harry, opened the door with force. They found themselves standing in the middle of a very drab room. The only place of focal interest was the lit fireplace in the far right corner. Next to the fireplace was a horrified looking Mundungus.

Harry pointed his wand and approached him. "I've come for my things."  
"P-please…" Mundungus stuttered.  
"Please what!" Harry roared.  
"He t-took her."  
"Took who?"  
"M-my daughter. H-he took h-her." Since when did Mundungus have a daughter?  
"Who took her?" Ron asked.  
"P-pettigrew!" There was utter silence as the trio stared blankly at one another. "He wanted something I've never heard of before. He says I have it. Then…he took her. I swore I didn't know what he was talking about, but he took her." Mundungus spoke quickly.  
"Where'd he take her?" Harry demanded. Mundungus handed him a piece of parchment. "I will get her back for you, but I want _all_ of my things _now_."

Mundungus wasted no time in heading for the stack of boxes that took up half of the space in the room. Sure enough, he handed Harry a box with all of Sirius' stolen belongings. He picked up the locket. The Horcrux was in his hands now. He pulled out the fake that he carried in his pocket while putting the real locket around his neck and under his robes, out of sight. For the first time in awhile, his scar started to prickle. He ignored it. He gave Hermione the key to Grimmauld Place and the box to take there, while he and Ron would go to Wormtail. They were about to make a trade with the main devil's advocate.


	3. A New Burden

**Chapter 3 - A New Burden**

Harry and Ron arrived at the seemingly abandoned house that the directions on the parchment had led them to.

_Enter the back door._

They did as the parchment instructed and walked around to the back of the house. The door lead to a dark hallway and at the end was another open room where they saw light.

"Ah, Mundungus. I see you've c-come around." Wormtail's voice came from the direction of the open room.  
"Dad!" A girl's frantic voice called. They heard a slap. Then there was silence.  
"C-come Mundungus, unless you would prefer that your daughter suffer the c-consequences of her father's stupidity."

They walked down the hallway, into the open room. There stood Wormtail with a girl around their age in his clutches. She looked a mess and one side of her face was reddened. Wormtail's wand had been at the girl's throat, until he saw them. The wand was now pointed in their direction and their wands at him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Wormatil sounded stunned.  
"I came for the girl." Harry answered, feeling his rage start to rise.  
_"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Harry watched the light go towards Ron. It hit him in the chest and he was frozen stiff.  
"Don't push me, Wormtail." Harry snarled. Wormtail began the Cruciatus Curse, but Harry had predicted he'd try that even before the word came out of his mouth. He made sure his disarming spell never left his mouth either as he used his nonverbal skills. _Expelliarmus!_

Wormtail's wand flew out of his hand. Harry began to approach when Wormtail put his hands around the girl's throat. She seemed calm, but then her face started to turn red and she began to struggle.

"I have the Horcrux." Harry said quickly as the girl's face was now turning pale. Wormtail did not loosen his grip on the girl's neck.  
"Let me see it." Wormtail demanded.  
Harry pulled the locket out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. The girl's eyes were unfocused. "Let her go."  
"If I let her go, you'll leave before you give me that locket."  
"And if I give you the locket, you'll kill her anyway." They both glared at each other. The girl's struggles were weakening. "I'll throw you the locket and you let her go." Wormtail looked to be in deep thought, but then nodded. "One…two…three…"

Harry threw the locket at Wormtail. When it reached him, he let the girl go to catch it, sending her to the floor, gasping for air. As soon as he caught the locket, he went fumbling for his wand. Harry jabbed his wand into Wormtail's back, insisting that he unfreeze Ron before he pulled a disappearing act. He complied and Ron fell to the floor due to his loss of balance. He was gone a second later. Harry turned around. The girl was still on the floor, rubbing her neck and coughing.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked while helping the girl sit up.  
She coughed two more times. "I think so. You saved my life." Ron had come over and knelt down next to Harry. "D-do you remember me?"

Harry looked at the girl. Her long, brown hair was in knots with two braids that lined her face, her eyes a very deep color brown. She had the appearance of being underfed like he had once had. Overall she looked nothing like Mundungus and was a somewhat attractive girl that he had never seen before in his life.

"Harry doesn't remember anything from that night." Ron interjected.

It then hit him who the girl was. The server girl he had been talking to at the reception. The girl appeared embarrassed. Or was that hurt? He felt guilty for being unable to recall ever talking to her.

"So…what's your name?" Harry asked.  
"Brooklyn Fletcher." She said.  
"You don't look anything like your father." Ron said.  
"I'm adopted."  
"So, umm, how old are you?" Harry asked dumbly.  
"Just turned 18 last week."  
"Did you go to Hogwarts?" Ron asked anxiously.  
"I was in Hufflepuff. I graduated last year."

A jolt of pain went through Harry's scar and he winced at the burning sensation. Neither of them seemed to notice his cringe of pain, but they were still talking to one another, Ron helping her stand. Ron's ears were turning redder with each word he spoke.

That was more than enough small talk for Harry's liking and his voice felt overused once again. Without saying another word, they all apparated back to Mundungus'. What greeted them sent Brooklyn screaming and into tears. Mundungus lye dead on the floor.

He had been murdered and Harry immediately recognized the slashing to be from Sectumsempra. There was blood surrounding his body. Brooklyn crouched down next to him, blood soaking her pants, shaking him as if trying to wake him up from a deep sleep.

"Harry…look." Ron pointed to some markings on the floor next to the pool of blood.

Next to Mundungus' outstretched arm was what appeared to be writing. They got closer. The writing becoming clearer with each passing step and the blood glistened by the light of the fire.

_Take care of her_

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"Did you get it?" Hermione asked.  
"Yeah, but there's something else going on. Harry will be here any second with Brooklyn Fletcher." Ron said quickly. "Mundungus was murdered."  
"Murdered! By who?"  
_Crack!_

Harry appeared with the sobbing Brooklyn clinging onto him. He wasn't comfortable with being her personal tissue, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter after she grabbed onto him after Ron apparated. When she finally broke away from him, they were both covered in Mundungus' blood.

_"Tergeo!"_ Hermione said. They were instantaneously blood free.

"I think he noticed it was a fake." Harry said quietly.

Hermione led Brooklyn upstairs to a bedroom. She came down about a half hour later saying that Brooklyn wanted to be left alone. Harry knew what she was going through for he had been getting away from everyone any chance he got. It was the only way, talking about it was just too painful. The mere thought of it was. Unfortunately, his muses always led back there, making him feel a little worse each time.

Harry was about to retreat to his own room when Hermione insisted on talking about what happened with Mundungus. Ron did the talking while Harry didn't even listen. His mind was preoccupied with the dull searing sensation of his scar. He was becoming convinced it had something to do with the locket that still remained around his neck.

"So you really think V-voldemort killed him?" Hermione asked.  
"Who else would it have been? Well, I guess it could have been a Death Eater, but still, _You-Know-Who_ had to have been behind it." Ron insisted.  
"Snape." Harry said with vengeance in his voice. "He used that spell that I used on Malfoy." There was silence.  
"Well, about that note that was in the fake locket, I'm pretty sure I know who wrote it." Hermione said. "I was studying the Black family tree and noticed Sirius' brother's name was Regulus Black."  
"Maybe that's why he's dead. Voldemort knew he stole the locket." Harry said.  
"But why would _You-Know-Who_ leave the fake one there?" Ron asked.  
Hermione looked to be deep in thought. "There would be no point to go through all of that pain for a useless trinket. Besides, he was probably hoping for something like what happened to well, happen." Harry closed his eyes. The scene was playing like a movie in his head. "V-voldemort probably found out that Regulus stole it through Legilimency, so he killed him."  
"I'm going to go to bed." Harry said.  
"Wait! We still need to discuss how we should go about destroying the locket!" Hermione protested.  
"Later. Someone should report Mundungus' death to the Ministry."

Harry turned away from Hermione and Ron's opened mouth faces and headed up the stairs. He heard the faint sound of sobbing as he passed the door before his. Stopping and checking in on Brooklyn wasn't even a thought that crossed his mind. He locked the door to his room behind him. Hedwig flew over towards him, but he didn't put out his arm for her to land on. She landed on his shoulder and affectionately nipped at his ear. He knew she wanted his attention, but he had none to give.

Sitting down on his bed, Hedwig made the short flight to the back of the headboard of the bed, hooting for his attention. He laid back. Two bright yellow eyes stared back at him with what appeared to be confusion. Or was that curiosity? Either way, he could really care less, because he had witnessed more death today. A gruesome one at that. And to make matters even worse, he now had another burden. The glistening words flashed on the black background of his closed eyes.

_Take care of her_

He did not know how long he had been in his room for, but the knock on the door disturbed his perfect silence. He opened his eyes. The bright yellow ones greeted him yet again. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and flicked it at the door. It unlocked and he saw the handle turn. Behind the door stood his latest burden.

Brooklyn's grief ridden eyes looked intently into his own. "C-can we talk?"

The last thing Harry wanted to do was talk, especially to her. He had already started to feel resentment towards her, because Mundungus knew Harry wouldn't be able to turn him down to his face, forcing him to follow through with the request. Brooklyn had already closed the door behind her, but she hadn't progressed further into the room. Her hair was still knotted and bruises had formed on her neck. She was just another burden he had to endure.

"About what?" He finally said.  
She came and sat on the end of his bed. "Well, I figured if anyone, you'd be the right person to talk to about…" She looked like she was about to cry.  
"Death?" She nodded and he started to get annoyed. "Yeah, that's me. I'm starting to lose count of how many people I've seen die."  
"I'm sorry. I'll leave."  
"What is it?" Harry said sounding very annoyed. "You want to know how to cope? You want to know how long the feelings of grief, guilt, and agony last?" She stood up and started to back away towards the door. He stood up. He wasn't done with his little speech and he was yelling by now. "I'm still waiting for all of those feelings to leave me and I don't think they ever will! Coping? You can try to suspend reality and act, but you're only fooling yourself! I was a fool all of last year in this fantasy of feeling happiness!" Tears started to fall from her eyes and her hand reached behind her for the doorknob. Harry lowered his voice, but it was still one of extreme annoyance. "Truth is I don't know how to cope so I have no _friendly_ advice to give you." He said the word friendly with the utmost sarcasm.

Harry knew that he should be feeling guilty for yelling at Brooklyn like that, but that feeling was nowhere in his mind. He in fact was feeling as though he had just performed a Pepper Up charm. This was not a good thing. He shouldn't be feeling happy after causing someone innocent pain. It didn't matter though, he loved the feeling. He basked in it.

_'Feelssssss good doesssssn't it?'_ A familiar voice came into his head.  
No. This wasn't happening. He covered his ears with his hands.  
_'Hurting people, Harry, it'ssssss in your nature.'_  
"No! It's not!" He shouted. What Harry wouldn't give to be good at Occlumency right now.  
_'And to continue thisssss feeling, it issssss a neccesssssity that you return the Ssssslytherin locket to it'sssss rightful owner.'_  
"No! I won't do it!"  
_'Come now, Harry, don't be a fool. It'ssssss time to return the locket.'_

And for some reason, Harry felt it was the right thing to do.


	4. The Locket

**Chapter 4 - The Locket**

"What's Harry going on about up there?" Ron said while looking at the ceiling.  
The sound of Harry's muffled voice could be heard downstairs.  
"I don't know, but I think we should go check." Hermione said.

They both headed upstairs and heard a door open. As they rounded the corner, they saw Brooklyn emerging from her room. Before they could even ask what was going on she simply shrugged her shoulders. They all went to Harry's door and Hermione knocked on it. Harry's voice came from behind.

"Yes, it needs to be done." Harry said.

Hermione opened the unlocked door and found Harry sitting straight up on the edge of his bed with a huge smile on his face. He looked absolutely manic. His eyes had a strange yellowish glow to them and it made for an odd shade of green. The locket around his neck emanated with the same yellowish glow.

Harry removed the locket from around his neck. "I have to give this back to him."  
"WHAT!" Ron and Hermione said in unison.  
"I'll be right back!" He said way too happily.  
_"Accio locket!"_ Brooklyn yelled. The locket flew into her hand before Harry apparated.  
When he reappeared, he was standing right in front of her with a huge grin on his face. "That wasn't very nice."  
"Harry, fight it!" Hermione yelled. "You have to get it out of your head!"  
Harry shook his head and was silent for a moment. "I…he…" The smile was fading with his realization of what was going on, but then he turned to Brooklyn. "Can I have that, please?"

Without waiting for an answer, Harry grabbed the locket and placed it back around his neck. An odd sensation that resembled pure serenity swept over him and it was accompanied by another manic smile.

"It needs to be returned." Harry proclaimed. Everyone stared at him in horror.

The yellowish glow coming from the locket turned to orange and it was the same for Harry's eyes. Smoke began emitting from the locket and then burst into flames. A red glow was now coming from his eyes. There was a hissing sound that had the effect of nails on a chalkboard. As the fire grew more intense, Harry started to shake. He could now feel the fire going in and out of his chest, growing in intensity with each passing second. He was shaking so much he almost lost his balance. The feeling of being burned alive had taken over.

"HARRY!" Ron grabbed his shoulders. "FIGHT IT!"

Harry suddenly felt random memories coming forward. No. He couldn't let the memory of the plan to destroy the locket come forward. He closed his eyes tightly, Ron still holding his shoulders, and concentrated as hard as he could on letting go of his emotions. Visions of Snape's Occlumency lesson's flashed through his mind, quickly followed by the spiders in the cupboard under the stairs. No! No emotions, come on. The lifeless form of Cedric lying on the ground, the green light coming from the end of the wand, the pain of being burned alive. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing….

Suddenly, the terrible shock of his prior melancholic state was upon him again and he looked straight ahead at Ron. The red glow in his eyes subsided from red, to orange, then to yellow. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head before the glow completely diminished and he no longer could support his own weight.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in bed. Snape had once told him that people who live in their own sorrow are particularly vulnerable to Voldemort's powers. It was proving true. Voldemort was actually speaking to Harry, preying on him. Snape was right…Harry was weak.

But Harry couldn't be weak. He had gotten Voldemort out of his mind. It might have taken awhile and it had to be pointed out to him, but he was still able to do it. That had to count for something, right? He was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. He was not weak. He couldn't allow himself to be. He knew he had to perfect Occlumency or he would meet his doom.

Harry looked up. Those same bright yellow eyes stared down at him. He turned his head and found three more pairs of eyes staring back at him. When his eyes locked with the deep brown ones, he began to feel the guilt he should have felt after his outburst.

"Brooklyn, I'm sorry about earlier." He said, ashamed of his earlier behavior. He was confused by the look in her eyes. She looked concerned. Suddenly, he felt ill.  
"Harry," Hermione began. "About the locket..."

Harry's hand immediately went for the locket only to realize it wasn't there and neither was his shirt. In their place were imprints in his skin where the locket had been. It was a deep, scabbing, not to mention infected looking wound, almost as if the locket had been burned into him and the area around the wound had been completely charred. That was in fact exactly what it had been doing.

"When you put the locket back around your neck, it started to burn into your skin." Hermione said. "You started shaking terribly and Ron tried to hold you still. It…it was on fire Harry and all you could do was smile."  
"But then you started screaming 'no'." Ron said.  
"Harry…you destroyed it. I don't know what you did, but all of a sudden it burst into a giant flame of a snake and then it disintegrated." Hermione said.  
Harry stared at her in shock. "It…i-it's gone?" Everyone nodded. Harry looked back down at his chest where the locket had been. "I think I should go to St. Mungo's. This really doesn't look good."  
"About that mate," Ron said. "Tonks came right away and took you to St. Mungo's. That wound is loads better than what it looked like before. It's probably about time for your mediwitch to put the dressing back on it."  
Harry looked around. He was not in his own room, but in a hospital room. "How long have I been out?"  
"All day. Night. Two days later."  
An image of Dumbledore's blackened hand came to his mind. "It's never going to heal, is it?"  
"I'm sorry, Harry. They said it will never heal completely." Hermione said dejectedly. "They said it's extremely rare to see something of this caliber."

The wound lay right in the center of his chest. Though he vaguely remembered pain during the ordeal itself, the after effects were harsh. The healing of the wound felt as though someone was lighting his chest on fire. He would not be able to go on the search for the remaining Horcruxes until he was completely healed. It would be too much of a risk. It hurt worse than his scar ever had.

His scar had stopped hurting and prickling though. Harry assumed that it must have had to do with the locket. He could only hope that it wouldn't happen when he came in contact with the other Horcruxes, whatever and wherever they might be.

Voldemort had never been talking to Harry during the incident with the locket. Everything was a host of spells set to attack when wore around a person's neck. It turned out Harry really wasn't weak. In fact he was the polar opposite.

Harry had had his fill of drinking disgusting tasting potions that made the wound heal at a quicker pace. After everyone had been kicked out of the room thirty minutes after he had woken up, he made a request to his tending mediwitch that he did not want any visitors for the remainder of his stay at St. Mungo's. His request was fulfilled…that is until Tonks showed up looking like his assigned mediwitch.

"Harry Potter, how selfish are you!" His mediwitch, with Tonks voice, said. "Do you have _any_ idea how horrible you are being to your friends!" She was now physically herself. "Now for Merlin's sake lift that daft request of yours!"  
Harry said nothing, but her stern gaze prompted a response. "Fine."  
Her face softened. "Why don't you want to see anyone?"  
"I don't even know anymore."  
She took his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "It will pass. I promise. You're the strongest person I know."

He could only hope she was right.

The next day, Ron and Hermione were arguing. Harry kept his eyes closed, maybe they would eventually leave if he didn't wake up. They were arguing about something completely pointless as usual. He opened his eyes just enough so he could see. They were standing at the foot of his bed, Ron's hands up in exasperation and Hermione's hands on her hips. He shifted his eyes and saw Brooklyn and Tonks sitting at the table by the window. Tonks was glaring at them while Brooklyn was rubbing her temples.

He closed his eyes again while his hand fumbled for his mediwitch summoner. She was there in an instant and immediately escorted the arguing wannabe couple out of the room. He however didn't plan for having them banned from his room because of it. Now they had something new to argue about and they wasted no time in starting. Their old married couple-like bickering was really getting old.

The mediwitch came back in. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, Harry. They won't be disturbing you any more."

She came over to Harry's side and started to remove his bandages. Harry cringed slightly at the pull, but his attention was diverted by her gasp. He looked down at the wound and his mouth opened in shock. The healing wound was turning into the shape of the Dark Mark.


	5. A Burden, Or Something More?

**Chapter 5 - A Burden, Or Something More?**

Two weeks later, Harry was released from St. Mungo's. His wound was completely healed in a sense. The healed version was a five inch diameter of badly burned scar tissue that was accompanied by an indentation of a blackened Dark Mark. Only time would tell if it would act as a normal Dark Mark would, or if the scar tissue around it would heal anymore.

He was now branded with the sign he despised. He was angry. Embarrassed. He would never let anyone see what had happened to him. The Daily Prophet would have a field day with it if anyone ever found out. The only people that had seen it, his mediwitch, Tonks and Brooklyn, would never see it again. It seemed only natural that after this proclamation that someone would.

It's not like he expected anyone to be waiting for him in his room. He thought everyone was in the room next to his, because he heard voices as he passed. His wound was still sensitive so he kept a dressing on it that he changed sporadically when he remembered so his clothes didn't rub against it. He lifted his shirt and started picking at the dressing as he opened the door with the other hand. By the time he realized someone was sitting on his bed rubbing their temples, the dressing was completely off. Their eyes were immediately fixed on the wound and he immediately let his shirt dropped over it.

"What are you doing in here?" Harry asked in a not so friendly manner.  
"They just _had_ to choose my room to argue in. I'm sorry, I'll leave." Brooklyn said. She stood up and walked towards the door. She turned when she was next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She said while motioning with her other hand at the place where the wound was.  
"What are they arguing about this time?" Harry asked, trying to make up for his unfriendly behavior.  
"Whose fault it is that they never got to see, you know." She motioned toward the wound again.  
"Let's go downstairs so we don't have to listen to this. I just have to put a new dressing on this." Harry hoped he wouldn't regret saying that.  
She nodded, but didn't exit the room. Harry stared at her. "Oh, right." She exited.

He went to the drawer where he kept the gauze only to be greeted by none. He had just thrown out his last one. With a sigh, he left his room. There was silence as he passed by the room Ron and Hermione were arguing in. They were probably taking a break to catch their breath before they started their arguing again.

When he got downstairs, he found Brooklyn in the kitchen making a pot of tea. There were two cups already sitting on the table. Harry sat down in front of one, it was empty. Suddenly the kettle was in front of him, pouring its contents into the cup. Brooklyn walked over to the table and sat down in front of the other cup across from him. Her hair wasn't knotted for once, it was sleek and straight, minus the two braids that usually lined her face that were tied up in two knots. She had gained some weight since being there and she appeared to be healthy now. He stared at the tea nervously.

"Don't worry, it's just tea." She said. "When they're not arguing they let me in on what's going on." That answered Harry's question.  
"So…" He said awkwardly.  
"I really am grateful that you've let me stay here this long. I hope I haven't overstayed my welcome. I'll be leaving as soon as I find a place; I've been looking in the Daily Prophet. I…I just can't go back there."  
The glistening words flashed in his mind. "You can stay as long as you need. I'm going to have to give you a key though, because Ron, Hermione and I are leaving soon. Tonks will be coming in and out of here often since she's watching the place for me."  
"You never did finish telling me where you were going, just that you weren't returning to Hogwarts because of it."  
Harry looked at her confused.  
She looked down at the table. "I forgot, you don't remember."  
Harry didn't want to continue on with this conversation, but he did, he was a tad bit curious. "So, uh, you were a server at the wedding?"  
She nodded. "I've been trying to save up some money. I mean it's not like my dad could help me out much." She stared into her tea. Her bottom lip started shaking. She blinked her eyes quickly and then looked up. "They only paid me for half of the time I was there, though."  
"Why's that?"  
She half smiled. "You sort of occupied my time."  
His eyes widened, having no clue what he had done.  
"Well, at first you just came over for some of the food I was carrying, but then I said something about some idiot that was practically stalking you and we just started talking. My fault really, I shouldn't have sat down and stopped working, I got what I deserved."  
"Why did you stop working?"  
"Honestly, you seemed interesting. Drunk, but none the less interesting. I mean I had seen you around school and stuff, but we had never said a word to each other."  
Harry took a sip of his tea, trying to hide the fact he was embarrassed. He must have been acting like a complete fool at the reception.  
"You're quite funny you know." She said. "In a cynical, I hate the world and everyone inhabiting it sort of way."  
Oh for the love of God what could he have been doing to make her say something like that?  
"I meant it as a compliment." She said. "You didn't make an idiot out of yourself. Well, that is until the end of our conversation."  
Harry groaned.  
"You had just had one or three too many. I could hardly understand you. That's when you were telling me about you leaving."

They were not that much different in some aspects. Neither of them had known their parents, though she at least had Mundungus who had loved her as though she was his own and willing kept her even though his only means of providing for her had been through smuggling items. She had no idea which one of her parents was of magic decent. For all she knew she could be the descendant of one of the founders.

There was never any information left about her parents when she was found at the orphanage. It was just her lying on the ground, poorly wrapped in a tattered sheet. All she knew is that she was named after a worker's pet cat. When she spoke about it, her voice was emotionless unless she said mother or father, in which those words held contempt.

Her dad had been Mundungus since she was ten, when she was finally given the proper surname of Fletcher, instead of just being another Jane Doe, or in her case Brooklyn Doe. He had found out about her through a Squib he knew that worked in the orphanage. In her own words, her parents were merely donors and she never had a mum.

During her time at Hogwarts she was the girl that had originally captured Cedric Diggory's affections during their sixth, Harry's fifth year, at Hogwarts. She said it wasn't serious enough to even call it a relationship and what little that was there ended as soon as Cho Chang entered the picture.

Throughout her story Harry found himself entranced by one piece of information she had said. Orphanage. The way she had spoken of it, described it. He had been there before, in Dumbledore's memory. It was the same orphanage in which Voldemort had been in.

Harry's mind raced frantically. He tried to think of what exactly he saw in the pensieve. The woman had been telling Dumbledore about certain peculiar incidents with Tom Riddle. One of those incidents had involved the cave. That resulted in where a Horcrux was hidden. Maybe, just maybe the other incident mentioned would result in the finding of another one.

The rafters.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry's sudden epiphany caused him to jump up from the table and bolt upstairs without any warning. Without knocking, he barged into the room Brooklyn was occupying. He was not greeted with their arguing. Instead, Ron and Hermione were sitting very close to each other on the bed, holding hands, while Ron had an arm around her shoulder. She appeared to be smiling.

"Bad time?" Harry asked awkwardly.  
They both started blushing, but neither of them moved from their position. "No, not at all." Hermione said.  
Harry didn't want to know what was going on. They were simply too confusing for him by this point. "I think we need to talk about finding the Horcruxes."  
The mention of this caused Ron to drop his arm from Hermione's shoulder. She looked at Harry intently. "Well, according to you, you think you know what three of them already are."  
"I don't know for sure. I'm just going on what Dumbledore told me and he's never wrong about this stuff."  
"Except when you found the fake." Ron said. "Ow! I mean, how could he have known it was stolen." Ron and Hermione had stopped holding hands.  
"Ron, honestly, you are so daft sometimes. So, Harry, which one are you speaking of?"  
Harry rolled his eyes at their behavior, starting to wish he had taken off before they had arrived at the Durleys. "I don't know which one, but I think I know where one is."

Ron and Hermione both exchanged unsure glances before she asked where he thought it was.

"I think it's in the orphanage where Voldemort was until he came to Hogwarts."  
They both looked unsure. "Why would he leave it where a bunch of muggles could get to it?" Ron asked unconvinced.  
"The penieve!" Harry was becoming annoyed. Why would they doubt him? "In the pensieve they spoke about the cave. They also spoke of one other distinct place."  
"And that would be?"  
"Voldemort hung some kid's rabbit on the rafters. I think it's hidden there."  
"Again, why would _You-Know-Who_ hide one where muggles could get to it?"  
Hermione answered this question. "I would assume he probably put some sort of spell on it so they either couldn't see it or get near it."  
"We need to go to the orphanage." Harry stated. He turned around to leave.  
"Harry, we don't even know where it is." Ron said.  
"Brooklyn does, we'll just ask her."  
"How does she…ooh that's right, she's adopted."  
"Exactly. And conveniently happens to have come from the same orphanage. We just have to ask her how to get there."  
"I can show you guys how to get there." Brooklyn's voice came. Harry glared at her for eavesdropping. "Well, you guys are in my room."  
"It's not _your_ room." Harry spat.  
"Harry!" Hermione scolded him.  
"No he's right." Brooklyn said dejectedly. "It is his house. Poor choice of words on my part."  
"Nonsense." Hermione said. "I think it would be a great idea if you were to show us, just so there's no mistake in directions or anything."

Harry made an annoyed noise to show his dislike for the situation, which Brooklyn took as her cue to exit the room. They heard some stairs creak as she descended them.

Harry glared at Hermione. "Good job Hermione, now my latest burden is interfering with my other one."  
"Burden! If you dislike her so much then why are you letting her stay here?" Hermione snapped back.  
"That's why it's called a burden Hermione! I don't have a choice in the matter! It was that bastard father of hers dying request and he was dead before I had a chance to tell that blagger no way in hell would I even consider it!"  
"Keep you voice down!" Hermione whispered harshly.  
"Too late for that." Ron said, pointing toward the still open doorway.

Harry turned around to see the expressionless face of Brooklyn standing in the doorway.

Without saying a word, Brooklyn walked past all of them and took her shabby suitcase out of the closet. She began packing what little things she had into it in silence. Hermione approached her and tried to convince her to stop, but she was only pushed backwards and threatened with the end of her wand. She went and grabbed Ron's hand, pulling him up off the bed. They walked towards Harry.

"You know, you've been nothing but a prat lately." Hermione said as she dragged Ron out of the room with her, leaving Harry to stare at the girl packing her things.


	6. In This Corner

**Chapter 6 -In This Corner…**

Harry rubbed his face in frustration. Brooklyn's back was to him and the only sound coming from her side of the room was the sound of her putting things into her suitcase. He needed to stop her. She might have been a burden, but she was his burden and a helpful one at that. After all, she put the thought of the orphanage in his head as a possible place for another Horcrux, even though she had no idea she had done so.

He approached her. "Listen…"  
"I already did." She said bluntly.  
"I didn't mean-"  
"YES YOU DID!"

Her eyes were full of fury and Harry could see she was ready to grab her wand. She stood up and approached him, pulling her wand from her pocket, pointing it directly at him.

"Say what you want about me, but _never_ say anything about my dad. _"Petrificus Totalis!"_

Harry had no time to react. By the time she said the spell, his hand had only just grabbed his wand. He was frozen stiff. She placed her wand back in her pocket and got right up in his face. The look she gave him was actually frightening and he would have cringed if he could have. She began rounding on him, looking him up in down as if sizing him up for a fight. She stood in front of him again and scoffed.

"And you have the audacity to say those things about me. As if I'm the worst thing that could have possibly ever happened, comparing me to You-Know-Who. Well I have news for you _Potter_, you picked the wrong person to cross and I swear that if I ever see your face again you will be sorry we ever met."

Her voice had a tone in it he had never heard before. He couldn't quite determine what it was, but it was quite startling. One thing was for sure, this girl had the potential to get really nasty he really didn't want to see the extent of her rage. She wasn't done yelling at him though.

"You say my dad was nothing but a bloody blagger. Well you know what, he was! He smuggled anything he could get his hands on. And do you know why? He did it for me! He took me in when he knew damn well he couldn't afford me. At least he loved me enough to try! And that's a hell of a lot more than you could _ever_ say!"

She hit below the belt with that one and by the looks of the satisfied smirk on her face she knew it. But then her eyes got watery.

"And he's not my father, he's my dad." She blinked her eyes rapidly. "You actually have to love a child to be a dad, you only have to perform an act to be a father. And that bastard blagger happens to be my dad." One of her braids fell out of its knot and lined her face. "Happened to be my dad." She whispered.

She unfroze Harry after that and continued packing her things, tying her fallen braid back in its knot. She looked ridiculous. Harry walked over and stopped her.

"I'm really sorry. Those things I said…there's no excuse." He said. "Unpack your things and stay."  
"Thought I was nothing but another burden for you?" She said.  
"You were more unexpected."  
"Uh-huh."  
"I'll make it up to you." He said, instantly regretting those words ever leaving his mouth.  
She raised an eyebrow. "How?"  
"I-uh…"  
"What? Let me stay here as long as I want? Buy me stuff I need or want? I'll save you your breath, because those things won't persuade me."  
He groaned inwardly. "Then what will?"  
"Nothing that I can think of."  
Harry had the sudden urge to pull out his hair. "Fine, you will lead us to the orphanage. Will you unpack your things now?"  
She shot him a not so friendly look. "And what makes you think I'd ever go back there! Did you ever stop to think how I would feel about going back there! I was only going to do it because you were being so gracious and letting me stay here, but now I know how you really feel. So give me one good reason why I should put myself through that hell for someone like you, Potter? In fact, have fun finding it on your own, because I'm not even going to tell you where it is."

Brooklyn picked up her bag and made her way toward the door. Harry panicked. He needed her to stay, or at least to tell him where the orphanage was. He made for the door and slammed it shut before she could get there.

"And here I thought you were so eager to get rid of me." She scoffed.  
"Don't flatter yourself." He shot back.

She attempted to get around him, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it out of his grasp and gave him a look that clearly stated 'don't ever touch me again'. She made another attempt for the door and he grabbed her bag this time, pulling her backward.

A conniving look resided on her face. "You know Potter, for someone who has faced You-Know-Who, I would think that would have taken some real courage, but it appears I was wrong. You're nothing but a spoiled coward. You can't even tell people that you want them out of your house to their faces! Then, you can't even face their anger when they find out!"  
"I _am not_ a coward!" He yelled.  
She approached him, breathing heavily and anger dominant in her eyes. "Actions speak louder than words Potter, and yours a few minutes ago spoke volumes. There are all sorts of cowards. Just because you were put in Gryffindor doesn't mean you're not one. It just simply means that you managed to fool one daft piece of fabric."  
Harry stood there speechless, his mind racing for a comeback.  
"Ding, ding, ding!" A voice came.

Harry practically tore the door off of its hinges, Brooklyn right behind him. They both glared at the eavesdropping Ron and Hermione.

"What? Hermione showed me some muggle wrestling over the summer. It seemed appropriate." Ron said fairly nonchalantly.

Harry and Brooklyn both slammed the door in their faces and then turned towards each other. Harry opened his mouth, but he heard a loud clicking sound. They both turned and looked at the door. They had been locked in.

"What the bloody hell did they do that for!" Brooklyn shouted.  
"Why do you think?" Harry said rhetorically.  
Brooklyn went for her wand again, but Harry was too quick for her this time. When she looked up, she was greeted by the end of his wand.  
"Not this time." He said. "Put it away."  
She did so, but got right in his face afterward. "Coward." She spat inches from his face.  
He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't you ever call me that again!"

The look of fear in her eyes registered after the words left his mouth and he immediately loosened his grip. She pushed him away fiercely and he almost lost his balance. Harry summoned her wand before she could even reach for it and placed it in his pocket along with his own. Her eyes narrowed on him. She looked more furious than ever.

"Tell me how to get to the orphanage and you'll get your wand back." Harry said.  
"I'm not telling you anything!" She yelled.  
"Then no wand."  
"You're a dead man, Potter!"  
"Funny, I seem quite alive."

Without warning, she charged at him, making him collide hard with the wall a few feet behind him. She took advantage of his momentary daze and her hand went for her wand in his pocket. He grabbed her wrist as her hand was coming out of his pocket with the wand. He was not going to let her walk out of there without the information he needed and he didn't care what he had to do to get it.

"I'm sure you fancy having my hand down your trousers Potter, but I find it quite revolting." She spat.  
"You didn't seem to mind when you did it." He said.  
"You took my wand and put it in here!"  
"A likely excuse."

She raised her other hand and slapped him. He grabbed that wrist with his free hand. They were both breathing heavily, neither of them looking at each other. They needed a break. It ended quickly as she began to try to free herself from his grasp. Harry was a lot stronger than her and knew she didn't stand a chance. She had released her grip on the wand and both of her fists were now pounding on his chest in an attempt to get him to let her go. He had to let her go, she was giving direct hits to his freshly healed wound.

He sank to the ground, clutching the center of his chest. It felt like it was on fire and he could even feel heat coming through his shirt. Suddenly his shirt started to steam and he quickly removed it. The mark was unchanged, cool to the touch. Had he gone mad? By the look on Brooklyn's face he had not.

He glared at her. "Don't do that again."  
The shock on her face diminished. "Then give me back my wand."  
Without thinking he reached into his pocket and threw it at her. "Brilliant idea, Harry." He said demeaning himself.  
"You know," She said, her wand now under his chin. "This would be a great time to show you some of the things my dad taught me."

Following the push of her wand under his chin, he stood up. Whatever it was, he didn't want to find out and his mind raced frantically trying to think of someway to get her to stop. The look in her eyes was menacing, but he could see right past it. What he saw was the same thing that he saw every time he looked at himself in a mirror.

"The reason I'm not going back to school is because I'm searching for some people." Harry said.  
She looked utterly confused by his seemingly random statement.  
"These people are behind your dad's death."  
"Why are you telling me this?" She asked.  
"Because telling me how to get to the orphanage gets me one step closer to catching them."  
She studied his features and then lowered her wand.  
"Will you stay then and show us the way?" He asked tentatively.

She didn't reply, but instead started to unpack. Her clothes were all oversized or ragged, minus her white button down shirt and black knee length skirt that was her server uniform.

"And will you please let me get you something new to wear? Half of your clothes don't even fit you." He said.  
"I can buy my own clothes, I just have to go to Gringott's to get some money. I got an owl yesterday concerning my dad's will. I have to go pick up his key to his vault at the Ministry. I can't imagine there'd be much in there, but it should be enough to get a new outfit. I got his house too. I'm putting it up for sale after I clear it out though…I don't want it."  
"I'll take you to the Ministry."  
"I'll go by myself."  
"Are you always this stubborn?"  
"Are you always such a git?"  
"No…"  
"Likewise."  
She picked up Harry's crumpled shirt that lay by her feet. "Here."

He didn't put the shirt on. Instead he stood there examining it. It was still warm in the area that lay on top of the mark. He stared down at the black mark. The urge to pull his hair came back at the sight of it and he didn't hold back the temptation. He felt strands depart his scalp as he forcefully grabbed fistfuls of hair.

"Harry stop." Brooklyn said, her hands trying to pry open his fists. "How is pulling out your hair going to help anything?"

His grip loosened and her hands enclosed around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his head. His eyes met hers. There was a look of painful understanding in them.

"Want to start over?" She said. "I don't think we made the best impressions on each other." She extended her hand towards him. "I'm Brooklyn."  
He stared at her hand for a moment. She was right, they started off on really bad terms. He took her hand. "I'm Harry."

He suddenly realized how close they were standing and the fact that he was still shirtless. He quickly put on his shirt. Did she get closer, or was it just him? Either way, he felt a pull towards the familiar look in her eyes. Painful, yet it seemed very welcoming to him.

There was a loud click. They were no longer locked in.


	7. Unspoken Bonds

**Chapter 7 - Unspoken Bonds**

"Why is everyone staring?" Ron asked.  
"I'm _The Chosen One_." Harry said in a mocking tone.

Harry had the urge to hex everyone in sight as they walked down the street in Diagon Alley. They were whispering. Pointing. He attempted to flatten his hair over his scar. Not like that would help him any as most people knew what he looked like since his picture had been in the Daily Prophet so much.

"Yeah, but this is excessive." Ron said seriously.   
"Ron's right," Hermione said. "This is just…odd."

People were stepping back as they walked down the street, the crowd parting like it was the Red Sea.

"Let's just get what we need and get out of here." Harry said, quickening his pace.

It didn't take long to get to Weasley's Whizarding Wheezes seeing as no one was in their way. Harry opened the door and complete silence followed as he entered the store. His hand was on his wand, ready to hex the first person that spoke to him. No one did though, they just stared and whispered. What the hell was going on?

"Harry! Good to see you again!" Fred's voice rang through the room.

People had started filing out of the store by now. Harry just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Looks like he was going to hurt their business if he stayed much longer.

"I'm going to be needing products from your Defense Against the Dark Arts line." Harry said.  
"Of course! Take anything you need, free of charge." Fred said.  
Not this again. "I'm paying for everything I take."  
"Not this time Harry, I need to pay you back somehow."

Harry wasn't in the mood to continuing talking and nodded his head instead. He followed Fred into the back room, followed closely by Ron and Hermione with Brooklyn lagging behind them. There were more products than Harry remembered; obviously they had expanded their line.

"Now, what exactly can I interest you in?" Fred asked. "Some Shield Cloaks? Darkness Powder? Decoy Detonators?"  
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing to the small, grey boxes next to the Detonators.  
"Those are fairly new," Fred began. "They're…"  
"Shape Identifiers." Brooklyn said.  
"How'd you know?" Ron asked, eyeing her curiously.  
"My dad was, uhh, transferring some."  
"And just who exactly is your father?" Fred asked, sounding slightly annoyed.  
"She's Mundungus' daughter." Harry interjected.  
"That explains where that shipment went." Fred scoffed. "Er, sorry. I shouldn't have said that."  
Brooklyn merely nodded and remained silent.  
"Anyways," Fred said. "The way these work is you push this button and look through the portal at who ever. You can see anything they might be hiding…tattoos, weapons, branded with the Dark Mark..." Fred turned and stared at Harry. "Be on the look out mate, I'm sure people are dying to get a glimpse of yours"  
Harry's mouth dropped. "What! How did…"  
"In the Daily Prophet this morning. You have a new nickname."  
"Dare I even ask?"  
"The Marked One."  
"That's actually quite clever!" Ron said. "Ow! I swear Hermione…"  
"Can we just get what we need and get out of here!" Harry said irritably.  
"Course you can, mate. Don't mean to be holding you up." Fred said. "Just put what you want in this bag. And if I find one knut left on the counter it's going to end up back in your possession."

They took quite a bit of the Darkness Powder and Decoy Detonators. Fred even had to go restock the shelves since so many were taken, but he didn't mind in the least. In the process, Hermione asked where George was and Fred informed them that he's been running the Hogsmeade location until they can find someone they deemed able minded enough to.

Harry's attention turned to Ron when he heard a slap. He saw the Shape Identifier in the hand Ron was rubbing. It was apparent that he was trying to get a glimpse of the mark that now resided on Harry's chest. He grabbed the bags, as well as Brooklyn's arm, and headed for the door.

"What are you doing?" Brooklyn asked.  
"We're going to Gringott's without them." Harry said. "I don't want them trying to get glimpses of me while I'm not looking."  
"But what about the vault key!"  
"I sent Hedwig with a message to the Ministry before we left telling them to send it over. It should be there by now."  
"Can I have my arm back?"

Harry looked back and realized he was dragging her though the street. If people weren't already staring at him, they were staring at him now.

"Can you keep up?" He asked.  
"I guess I'll have to start running." She said.  
"Come on."

Harry took her hand in his, thinking it would make less of a scene if he were to be leading her by her hand rather than her arm. He quickly restored his prior pace and felt her hand grab on tightly to his. He clutched it back, not wanting to lose her in the crowd of people they were weaving in and out of.

Gringotts was now in sight and he finally slowed his pace. Brooklyn was now at his side, breathing heavily, instead of a few feet behind him. Her grip on his hand loosened, but contact still persisted. Why was she still holding his hand? Whatever the reason he didn't mind. The sensation of her touch was the only thing reminding him not to run out of sight like a mad man. That and reminding him that hexing anyone looking at him was not a good idea, no matter how good of an idea it seemed to be.

And what a brilliant idea it seemed right now….

The flash of the camera went off right in front of them. They were both blinded for a few moments by the sudden flash of white light and were frozen in their place. Harry regained his vision and was greeted with reporters and more flashing lights.

He put his other arm around Brooklyn in a half embrace and apparated so they ended up right in front of Gringotts. He cursed himself for not thinking of that sooner. Both of them were sure to end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet now with a headline about The Marked One and his possible girlfriend. They'd probably speculate on whether or not she was also marked.

Harry was pretty sure he knew how the Daily Prophet got a hold of this information. The only other person who knew had been his mediwitch, who he had forbidden her from even telling any other medical staff members about his condition.

He felt like he couldn't trust anyone, not even his friends. After all, they had an argument over whose fault it was that they never saw it and they even tried to get a glimpse not too long ago.

If anything, Brooklyn, a girl he barely knew, was his only security right now. She seemed to be one of the only people who could care less about the mark and right now that was the only type of company he could stand. Moreover, besides when she was ticked off, she was relatively quiet. A quality Harry simply reveled in right now.

A part of him felt guilty for liking that quality for he knew she was like that for the same reason he was. Too much tragedy in such a short span of time. Well, maybe on a lesser scale for her, but the magnitude of her loss was still quite significant. 

The silence between them said the unspoken words of sympathy they held for each other. The familiar look in their eyes expressed the words of gratitude of having someone that understood their situation and didn't push them to get over it and be happy again. 

When the time was right, they would open up. And with the unusual bond they were creating, it would most likely be him she would talk to first…and vice versa.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, that was more gold than I had expected." Brooklyn said somewhat dejectedly. "I guess I'll go get those new clothes now. Thanks for taking me here."  
"I'll go with you." Harry said.  
"I didn't think you'd want anyone to get a chance to print more rumors in the paper. You know that's exactly what they're going to do with those pictures they took of us."

One thing was for sure, she definitely thought along the same lines as him. 

"Quite honestly, I could care less if they make-up another relationship for me. At least it will divert attention away from their other stories." He said. "But if it bothers you, I'll leave you to your shopping."  
"The Marked One and the blagger's daughter." She said mockingly. "What an enchanting headline."  
"Is that your way of telling me to leave?"  
"I'll be fine. Thanks for taking me to Gringotts though, I don't know if I would have maintained composure if you weren't there."

As soon as they had stepped foot into Gringotts, her hand had found its way to his again. He hadn't questioned it. He knew she was only seeking something, anything, to keep herself from falling apart. She had often tightened her hold to keep herself from shaking, though it was unable to keep the shakiness out of her voice.

He watched her walk away. For some reason he had the urge to follow her, but instead he was greeted by a familiar face. It was Neville Longbottom.

"Harry! How's your summer been?" Neville asked.  
"Fine." Harry lied. "How about yours?" He was waiting for the Dark Mark question.  
"Oh, you know. Me and my grandmother."  
"Yeah…"

Harry wanted him to just shut it and leave. Naturally, Neville had other plans.

"How'd it happen? I really don't believe that rubbish they print in the Daily Prophet." Neville said.  
"Then why do you believe that I have the mark to begin with?" Harry snapped.  
"I-uh…"  
"What? Did you try to look for it with a Shape Identifier too!"  
"I didn't mean-"  
"Didn't mean what? Didn't mean to invade my privacy? Didn't mean to stare and talk about me behind my back? Huh? Which one is it?"  
"Harry stop it!" Hermione's voice came from behind him.

He whirled around and glared at her.

"Go find Brooklyn, we're leaving." Harry growled.   
"Leave her be, Harry." Ron said.  
"Who's Brooklyn?" Neville asked.  
"You'll find out tomorrow in the Daily Prophet." Harry said as he glowered at Neville.

He didn't wait for anyone else to say anything, he apparated back to Gimmauld Place. When he got inside he stomped up the stairs, practically tore his door off the hinges and his hands immediately went for his hair to pull it. He let out a groan of frustration as he went for his bed and grabbed a pillow that lay on his bed. He threw it across the room, just barely missing Hedwig, who flew out of the way just in time. She swooped down at Harry's head, making him duck so they didn't collide. He went and sat on his bed and resumed to pulling his hair.

He was so frustrated with himself all he wanted to do was punch a hole in the wall. All he knew was that he was very confused about everything. How was he supposed to continue searching for the Horcruxes in his current state of mind? He could barely communicate with people he knew, was snapping at anyone that talked to him, on the verge of hexing anyone that looked at him and possibly the most confusing of all was the fact that the only person he was now being civil to was a girl he barely knew.

A girl who was now standing in his doorway….

How much of his outburst had she seen? Moreover, why did he even care if she had seen any of it? Nevertheless, he was hoping she hadn't seen any of it.

"Find any new clothes?" Harry asked.  
"No. Ron and Hermione came and said something about you having a row and insisting they come find me." Brooklyn said. "Was there something you wanted from me?"

Harry flopped back on his bed and let out a groan of frustration. He didn't mean for her to think that he needed her for something.

"Harry?"

He didn't answer. He merely rolled over on his stomach and placed his face in the pillow. He felt extra weight push the mattress down as she let out a sigh.

"I put a silencing charm on my room so no one can hear me at night. It's the only way I can think of dealing with it. Thinking about it and talking about it is just too painful. I have a tendency to throw things around too…had to repair a few things."

She ran a hand over his messy hair and he lifted his head at the gesture. She held out her left hand. Her knuckles were slightly swollen.

"I can repair things, but I can't heal them. I wouldn't recommend hitting the walls."

She placed her hand back on her leg, letting out another sigh. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on the floor and he rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. She got up and walked towards the door, making him sit up at her absence. 

"I'll leave you be, just remember what I said about the walls." She said.  
"Do you have trouble sleeping?" He asked.  
She turned around in his doorway and a frown was present on her face. "Every night."  
He nodded. "What I would give for Madam Pomprey's dreamless sleep concoction."  
She faintly smiled. "That would be brilliant."

With that she turned and left. He stood up and walked over to the wall that stood between them and put his ear against it. He heard the door close and then a few moments later he heard her cast the silencing charm.

There was silence.

He could only imagine what she was doing, but it was probably the same thing he wanted to be doing…

Trashing his room and then passing out from the exhaustion.


	8. The Misadventure Before the Misadventure

**Chapter 8 - The Misadventure Before the Misadventure **

The thought occurred to him…did he really want things to get destroyed in that room from some venting? Sure they got repaired, but nonetheless they probably shouldn't be broken in the first place. Harry decided that he should probably go stop Brooklyn before she got a chance to break something.

He left his room and turned in the direction of her room. He could hear Ron and Hermione downstairs. It sounded like there were extra voices, but he decided to check on Brooklyn first before going down to investigate.

He knocked on her door.

There was no answer.

He knocked again. "Brooklyn? It's Harry." He said.

A few moments later he heard the click of the lock and the door opened. She was a complete mess. She was attempting to flatten he hair that it appeared she had been pulling on. Her braids were no longer present. Instead they were replaced with extremely wavy hair. It was also obvious that she had just recently been crying.

"I didn't break anything if that's what you're wondering." She said defensively.   
"I-uh…it's just…we have company." He said, hoping she wouldn't catch on to his semi-lie.  
"Do I have to be present for this?"  
"You are coming along with us to the orphanage, so yes, this most likely will pertain to it."

She nodded and went to the dresser with the mirror attached to it. With a wave of her wand, the braids began to redo themselves. She began rummaging through the drawers, throwing her clothing everywhere.

"Where is it?" She muttered angrily.

She went to the closet and took out her bag. After throwing a few of its contents out, she flung the bag across the room and it stopped at Harry's feet. He knelt down and retrieved the bag. She was now on her hands and knees searching through her clothing that was now scattered on the floor. 

Harry went over to return the bag. She grabbed it from him roughly and threw it in the direction of the closet.

"What are you looking for?" Harry asked.  
"Nothing that concerns you." She snapped.  
He knelt down next to her. "I just-"  
"Get away from me!"

She pushed him away forcefully. He lost his footing and his head collided with the edge of the bed post. He grimaced in pain as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Brooklyn was now sitting against a wall, banging the back of her head against it, covering her face with her hands.

Harry picked up the jeans and shirt that lye next to him. Something fell to the floor. It appeared to be a pendant of some sort. Upon closer inspection, the pendant encased an appealing green colored stone.

When he picked it up he felt a strange sensation go through him. His mind felt strangely at ease and he was able to think more clearly than he had in a long time. He placed the pendant in his pocket and turned his attention back to Brooklyn. She was crying.

He immediately went over and knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She pushed him away a few times, but he persisted until she stopped.

"I c-can't believe I l-lost it." She said.  
"Lost what?" Harry asked.  
"My dad gave me something last year. An aventurine stone. He told me that his mother gave it to him and now he was going to give it to me. He told me that it was the most powerful of its kind. He said that it would help ease my mind of troubles if any were to arise."

Harry had the sudden urge to not give the pendant back to her.

"He told me that I had to be careful though. That it would only ease the mind enough to make you be able to think clearly, but it wouldn't solve any problems."

She began crying again.

"The only reason I haven't been crying in front of everyone is because of it! Now look at me!" She said as tears streamed down her face.

Harry reluctantly reached into his pocket. He really didn't want to give it back. Unfortunately for him, he was feeling more like his old self with it and held out the hand that contained it.

"This fell out of your pocket." He said.

She immediately grabbed it from his hand and held it tightly in hers. Harry instantly felt the weight of everything come back on him and his mind was once again overcome by his confused and frustrated state.

She came over and took his hand. "It's your birthday today, right?"  
He thought for a moment. "Tomorrow…"  
"Have a good birthday then." She said.

He found the stone back in his possession. 

"I'll be fine, I'm just going to stay up here." She said, turning away from him. "Happy Early Birthday."  
With her back still to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and whispered in her ear, "This really means a lot to me, thank you."  
"Just make sure to return it."  
"I promise I will."

He knew he had people waiting for him downstairs, but he knew she was a mess right now. He could feel her shaking in his arms and her tears were falling onto the exposed skin of his arms. He moved the wet hair that was sticking to her face.

"Come on, let's go sit down." He said.

He led her over to the bed and they sat down. It seemed that all of the tears the stone had been helping her hold back were uncontrollably flowing out of her eyes. She began coughing and having trouble breathing shortly after. 

"Calm down, you're making yourself sick." He said, holding her tighter.

He was doing everything he could think of to calm her down. Rubbing her back, holding onto her, stroking her hair, reassuring her that things would get better…he was no good at this.

He reached into his pocket for the stone. She obviously needed it more than he did. She wouldn't take it though. When he offered it to her, she knocked it out of his hand, sending it to the floor.

Now they were both stuck in their misery.

He could no longer hold onto her like he was, so he let his arms drop. She turned to him and wiped away the tears from her face. They simultaneously went for the stone that lay at their feet, both of their hands meeting right above it.

He turned to look at her only to be greeted by her gaze. That same familiar gaze.

Their noses were merely inches from touching.

He pushed the stone towards her. She didn't reach for it.

She reached for him….

-------------------------------------------------------

Unwrap. Smile. Say thank you.

Harry got this routine down and didn't even pay attention to what he had received as early birthday presents.

Eat food. Attempt to engage in conversation. Thank everyone for coming.

Everyone being Tonks and Professor Lupin.

Besides coming to be with Harry on his birthday, Professor Lupin came bearing some news. Most of the werewolves were turning to Voldemort and being given a form of the Dark Mark to show where their loyalties laid. He could no longer return because of it, for he was one of the remaining ones to have not gotten it yet. Others were being killed for not being branded with it.

Worst of all, he was now being hunted by them and he was going into hiding. He did not know when he would return.

"Best we head to the orphanage in the morning, don't you think?" Ron asked.  
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you listening?"  
Harry snapped out of his racing thoughts at the sound of his name. "What?"  
"Ron said we should head towards the orphanage in the morning."  
"Oh. Yeah, that's fine."  
"You okay mate?" Ron asked.  
Harry nodded.  
"Come on, you've been either dazed or in deep thought since you came downstairs." Hermione said.

_Her hands wrapped behind his head, slightly pulling on his hair, and pulled him the remaining space between them._

"He probably managed to make Brooklyn mad again and is trying to think of a way out of it." Ron said.

Both Harry and Hermione glared at him. 

"Honestly, Ron…" Hermione said shaking her head. "You have no tact whatsoever."  
"Then why else wouldn't she be down here if she wasn't mad and couldn't stand to be in the same room as Harry?" Ron asked.  
"Did you ever think that maybe she might want to be alone? She did just lose her father not too long ago." Hermione said. "She's still grieving."  
"Her dad…" Harry muttered to himself.  
"But why all of a sudden is she secluding herself?" Ron asked.  
"If you're so concerned, go ask her yourself." She said while crossing her arms.  
"Well, you were up there Harry, did she tell you anything?" He asked.

_He was speechless as she stood before him. But their eyes always conveyed unspoken messages to each other…and his eyes were telling her that things had just changed. _

"Not really…" Harry said.  
"Hey Brooklyn!" Hermione said cheerfully.

Harry turned around to see Brooklyn at the foot of the stairs. She looked completely different than from the last time he saw her since she had changed her clothes, fixed her hair…and was that make-up she was wearing?

He looked at her, desperately searching for any sign from her…he received nothing.

"I made sure to save you some dinner," Hermione said. "Would you like some?"  
"Forget the food, have the cake. It's delicious!" Ron said while eyeing up what was left of the cake.  
"I'll just have dinner for now." Brooklyn said while taking the vacant space next to Harry. 

Hermione went into the kitchen to put together a plate for Brooklyn, while Ron scooted closer to the cake with a fork in hand and his eyes fixated on the bakery delight. Harry took the opportunity to close the gap between himself and Brooklyn. She showed no sign that she had even noticed that he had moved closer.

_Their lips united again as his hands ran firmly up her back, provoking her to intensify her actions. Even if he tried he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else…and he definitely wasn't about to try to focus on anything else but her in the near future._

He went for her hand that was resting on her leg and held it in his. 

She shook him off.

He looked at her confused. Being with her now seemed to ease his mind even more than that stone of hers. What was the problem?

"Something wrong?" He whispered in her ear.  
She looked at him quizzically. "No, why?"  
"Ron! That cake is Harry's you know." Hermione said from the kitchen.

Ron shoved another forkful of cake in his mouth before ceasing. Hermione came in with a plate of food and sat it in front of Brooklyn, then took notice of the proximity, more lack thereof, between them. Her all knowing eyes could tell something was different and thankfully for Harry she kept her mouth shut about it.

Ron on the other hand….

"Harry, let the girl have some space to eat!" Ron said.  
Harry didn't budge. "So, we're leaving in the morning?"  
"We could just apparate to save some time and then we could leave a bit later."  
"Only Brooklyn knows where it is."  
"We can just grab onto her then."  
"Maybe she doesn't want you grabbing onto her." Harry said defensively.  
"Well blatantly she doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to." Ron said.  
"You know, she is right here, you can just ask her." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.  
"Would you mind?" Ron asked.  
"I don't mind." Brooklyn said.

_"I've seen it before." She whispered.   
"I know, but…" He started.  
"It doesn't matter to me..."_

He reached for his wand on the dresser next to him and she grabbed it out of his hand. As she muttered the spell he looked at the mirror across from him. He could hardly recognize himself. It made sense though, this was very uncharacteristic of him. Even more unlike him was the fact that he didn't care at all.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly noon when they decided to head off to the orphanage. Brooklyn apparated them each there one by one, because she said she was nervous about transporting so much in one trip alone.

Harry was by no means going to leave first, so Ron stepped up and link arms with her. With a crack they were gone.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and quickly said, "What's going on between you two? Did something happen?"  
Harry took his arm back. "No."  
"Come on Harry, this is me you're talking to…"  
"I don't know what's going on, okay?"  
Brooklyn appeared in front of Hermione. "Ron _insists_ you come next."

Hermione blushed and linked arms with her. They were gone moments later. Harry pulled at his hair and let out a frustrated groan. The last thing he needed today was to not be focused on the task at hand.

He _needed_ to focus.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He took a deep breath trying to calm down, but he was just becoming more frustrated by the fact that it wasn't working. And what was taking Brooklyn so long? She should have been back by now.

Without any warning, he fell to his knees. The all too familiar, crippling pain of his scar was at full force. He was certain that this time the pain would be too much and just claim his life.

What it did was claim his reality.

As everything began to turn a shade of red, he felt unwarranted anger rise up in him. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see all of the red and having a deep seeded feeling that his eyes were no longer their vibrant shade of green. 

The voice crept into his head. His instantly thought of nothing, made himself completely empty. He could do this now, he knew he could. The growing intensity of the anger he was trying so hard to ignore was testament to it.

He heard a crack.

"Harry? Where'd you go?" Brooklyn asked.

He could now see everything as if it were in night vision, though it was all a shade of red. The pain in his head was subsiding and being overtaken by the most malevolent anger he had ever felt in his lifetime.

Her calls to him grew closer.

The instinct to hide from her had now turned into something else. He didn't want to kill her…he wanted to torture her. Torture her until she pleaded with him to kill her.

He no longer had control of his own actions.

"There you are." She said.  
"Yessss, here I am." He responded in an unusually deep voice.  
"Look Harry, you need to stop acting weird about everything."  
A wryly smile came across his face. "About?"  
"Stop playing games Harry, you know what I'm talking about."

He turned to face her. His sadistic red eyes made her step back in fear. This pleased him greatly. He stepped forward and grabbed her shirt, pulling her roughly toward him.

"What hassss Potter been up to?" He seethed. He whipped his wand from his pocket and held it at her throat. "Ansssswer me!"  
"I don't know!" She cried.  
"Legilimensss!" He bellowed.

_Flashes of her thoughts passed through his mind at first, but then he began to focus. He saw himself laughing hysterically at the reception, throwing the locket to Pettrigrew, Mundungus dead on the floor…_

Flashes of her memories continued to pass. It seemed they only slowed when Harry was involved somehow in the memory.

"Where are you going…" He said to himself.

_A flash slowed down to show her taking off his glasses. His eyes possessed a look in them that he had never seen them have before…but he recognized the confusion his eyes possessed after she had shook his hand off under the table. _

He knew what memory was about to come next.

Something inside of his head started to scream out in protest. A new wave of anger flowed through his veins and he shoved Brooklyn into the wall. He stumbled in the other direction, desperately trying to get as far away from her as possible.

He was no longer a threat though…

Everything subsided. He staggered a few paces, the only thought registering was a terrifying one…

Voldemort knew they were being destroyed.

Then with one sudden burst of intolerable pain, he heard his name being called as he fell to the floor.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry! Harry! Come on, you have to wake up!" A voice laced with concern pleaded.  
"I think he's starting to come to." Another one said.

Harry groggily opened his eyes, but closed them again due to the piercing sunlight that lay behind the darkness of his lids. A dull, throbbing pain was in head. He thought back to the last thing he could remember. He was trying to hide from Brooklyn for fear of his whole body succumbing to Voldemort's command.

He reopened his eyes slowly to find no blinding sunlight. Ron was blocking it front his view.

"Better mate?" Ron asked.   
Harry grimaced at the throbbing in his head. "Yeah, much."

As he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized his head was resting in someone's lap. He looked up and found Hermione smiling down at him.

"You really scared us there." Hermione said. "Do you remember what happened?"  
Harry told her what he could remember.  
"You were right, you lost complete control of yourself." She said. "He knows we're after them Harry. I'm sure he's going to be putting extra protection around all of them now."

He moved his hands across the soft blades of grass, getting them in a position to allow him to help himself sit up. Hermione ended up doing most of the work, though. He looked around to observe their surroundings. Through the bushes he could see a building. It must be the orphanage. He could make out the faint sound of children, but couldn't see any.

Where was Brooklyn?

He looked around and found her leaning against a tree with her back to the orphanage. It was obvious that she was having difficulty being back here. He didn't know how long he had been staring in her direction, but it must have been noticeable.

"She says she'll be okay." Hermione said. "You on the other hand…"  
"Maybe we should just go back. You shouldn't be doing this after what just happened." Ron said.  
"He's right. You can barely sit up by yourself."

He hadn't even realized that Hermione was about the only reason he was still in a sitting position. Maybe they should go back. If he couldn't even sit up without needing help, how was he supposed to destroy a Horcrux…one that probably now had extra protection surrounding it.

He couldn't go back. The longer he waited to do this, the higher the likelihood that there would be something extra guarding the Horcruxes. He had to do this today. He had to do this now.

But first, he had to stand up.


	9. Adoption is Not an Option

**Chapter 9 - Adoption is Not an Option**

"Sure you're okay there mate?" Ron asked while grabbing onto Harry's arm after he staggered slightly.  
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Harry said.

He hoped he would be. Truth be told, he was still feeling a bit dazed. At least his head had stopped hurting. He had Hermione to thank for that.

"How about we rest a bit more before we head in." Hermione said. "Besides, we still have to figure out how precisely we're going to get in."

Harry wasn't about to argue with that and immediately sat himself on, more fell to, the ground. He soon found himself lying down in the position he usually fell asleep in. Maybe all he needed was a bit of sleep and he would feel better….

He rolled over, feeling a slight pain on the side of his face. His hand grazed over his cheek, feeling the indentations the blades of grass had left while he had slept. He pulled himself into a sitting position.

Hermione was sleeping against Ron while he had his arms around her protectively, gazing off into the distance with a hint of a smile on his face.

Brooklyn was leaning against the same tree, except she was sitting down.

Harry stood up and he felt much better than he had before.

"Feeling better?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.  
Harry nodded.  
"Should I wake her up?"  
"Not just yet, but soon."

Ron kissed the top of her head and then leaned his head on hers with a sigh. Harry looked past the bushes at the building. The sound of children could no longer be heard.

He already didn't like this place.

Every memory was just tied to the long string of tragedy that marred his life. Dumbledore showing him the memory in the pensieve of the young Tom Riddle, Riddle becoming Voldemort, Voldemort killing his parents, trying to kill him, branding him with his infamous scar…it just kept going downhill.

He turned his attention to the one thing he knew that could put his mind at ease and allow him to not think of all of those horrible things that plagued his mind….

Brooklyn sat with her head in one hand and an expressionless face. He walked over to her. He needed her to tell him, to reassure him like she had the day before, because she really knew and understood. He had let her see him when he felt the most vulnerable and she made him feel completely comfortable.

Some would say too comfortable.

He didn't care though. He only hoped that she felt the same way and would allow him to get close to her again. He sat himself down beside her, holding himself back from putting his arm around her shoulder.

"Hey…" He said. "I'm sorry about earlier."  
She didn't turn to look at him. "It wasn't your fault."  
"Are you okay with being here?"  
"I've been better."  
"You don't have to stay."  
"I know…"

He moved closer to her so that his shoulder was touching hers. He reached for her hand and took it in his. She didn't shake him off. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Why are you doing this?" Brooklyn asked.  
"What?" he asked confused.  
She pointed to their interlocked hands.  
"Because I want to." He said simply.  
"Well you need to stop."  
"Why?"  
"Because things aren't like that between us."  
"But we-" He started.  
"It wasn't like that." She cut him off.  
"But…"  
"It _wasn't_ like that."

_He shifted his weight to get up, but she held onto him tightly._

"Please don't leave yet." She said.

Not a fiber in his being would refuse her request.

"It was to me…" He said, letting her hand go.

He took his glasses off and rubbed the sides of his nose where they sat. He leaned his head back onto the tree and stared up into the blurry scene before him. Their shoulders were still touching.

"I'm sorry if I mislead you. It was not my intention." Brooklyn said.  
Harry merely nodded.  
"I just don't want you to get the wrong idea, because I don't want things to get awkward again."

Did she just say again?

---------------------------------------------------------

"So how do we get into this place?" Harry asked.  
"The front door..." Ron offered his logical answer.  
"I highly doubt they'd just let us waltz in there and go up to the rafters." Hermione said.  
Everyone turned to Brooklyn. "What?" She said.  
"You know your way around this place. There has to be some sort of back entrance or secret ways in the building so that we won't be seen." Ron said.  
"It's been a long time since I was last here." Brooklyn said.

Brooklyn turned her gaze towards the orphanage, appearing to be in deep thought. Hermione yawned, still trying to fully awaken from her sleep while leaning her head on Ron's shoulder. How were they going to get in? If anyone stopped them, it's not like they could just say why they were there…and they all appeared too young to be interested in adopting a child or putting one up for adoption as Ron pointed out.

"Ron, you're absolutely brilliant!" Hermione said excitedly.  
"I am?" Ron asked confused.  
"Do you have your cloak Harry?"  
Harry nodded. He carried that thing everywhere.  
"Excellent! You and Brooklyn will use that while Ron and I distract them for you."  
"And how exactly are we suppose to distract people for them?" Ron asked.  
"Simple!" Hermione turned to Harry. " When you find it, you'll have to figure out a way to let us know. We'll be able to apparate back in here by then."  
"They're going to ask for identification." Harry said. "How are you going to get past that one?  
"Harry, don't worry about us and just focus on finding that Horcrux."

Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and stood beside Brooklyn. He draped it over both of their shoulders and noticed that both of their feet were showing and he knew it was due to his growth spurt he had last summer.

"I guess we'll have to bend down some when we walk." Harry said.  
"I'm not the tall one here." She said while pulling the cloak over her head.  
He disappeared underneath the cloak as well. "Okay, so I'm a bit tall."  
"Harry we can see your feet!" Ron said.  
Harry bended his knees and hunched over a bit until he was level with Brooklyn.  
"Much better mate!"  
"I told you it was you." Brooklyn said.  
They started walking toward Ron and Hermione.  
"Umm…that's not working very well." Hermione said.  
Harry took the cloak off. "What do you mean!"  
"You are just going to have to stay really close together or else the cloak simply will not cover all of you."  
Harry threw the cloak back over himself and Brooklyn.  
"Well, you heard her." He said pulling Brooklyn as close as he could without impeding his ability to walk.  
"Much better!" Hermione said.  
"You look quite uncomfortable." Brooklyn said.  
"You try walking like this." Harry scoffed.

They followed Ron and Hermione through the front entrance. As the seemingly distraught couple approached the front desk, Brooklyn pulled Harry in the opposite direction toward a hallway.

"My best guess is that it would be somewhere down this way." Brooklyn said, grabbing onto Harry's arm tightly.

The sound of children grew louder and Brooklyn became tenser.

"Down to the right." She said shakily. "That's where I stayed. They never once moved me around like most of the others."  
Harry was about to embrace her in a hug, but she pulled him. "It's this way."

He followed without hesitation. She opened a door with a spell and inside appeared to be a recreational room. She pointed towards the ceiling. 

"This area has been off limits since I can remember." She said. "They said they were renovating."

There was only half of a ceiling, the other half showed the exposed rafters. It was time to go get Ron and Hermione.

----------------------------------------------------------

"There they-" Brooklyn's sentence was cut off by Harry's hand.  
"Whisper…" Harry said softly, as he glanced over toward the now nervous looking Ron and Hermione.

Harry heard footsteps coming from behind them. The hallway was small enough as it was and Harry and Brooklyn were talking up half of it. A quite large man came into view. There was no way that he would be able to get by without bumping into one of them.

"Wow…he gained quite a lot of weight." Brooklyn whispered.  
"Come on, let's go out there." Harry whispered.

Just as they went for the door, the woman talking to Ron and Hermione appeared in the doorway. She appeared to be waiting. Most likely waiting for the man who was now probably 50 feet away from them. But the closer the large man got, the woman from the doorway began to step forward. Now there was no way they would not be caught.

"Get on the floor." Brooklyn said.

Harry didn't ask questions, nor had time to as she started positioning both of them to take up a little space as possible and still have the cloak cover them the whole time. By the time she was done, both of the approaching people were standing right beside them, merely inches from touching one of them.

Harry opened his mouth to whisper something, but Brooklyn mouth formed the word 'sshh' before he could say anything. He had forgotten what he was about to say when her lips ever so slightly brushed against his ear when hushing him. The man's hand waving an inch over their heads was pushed out of his mind and replaced by the breath he could feel coming from her. He had no idea what they were discussing or when they left. He was too entranced by the one thing that could make him forget everything.

"We can move now, Harry." Brooklyn said, trying to get up.  
"Right." He said dumbly.

In one ungraceful movement, Brooklyn tripped and both of their heads collided, making them both let out a sound of pain. She was now kneeling next to him, holding onto her head. She took his now broken glasses off of his face and repaired them.

"Sorry." She said while handing them back. "Something wrong?"  
Harry was staring at the blurry pair of feet that now stood next to them.  
"It's just Ron." Brooklyn said, putting his glasses back on for him.  
One crack later Hermione showed up.  
"I still can't believe you made it sound like I was pushing you into the adoption thing." Ron said.  
"It's not like its true." She said. "Besides, the woman turned us away because of it, so it got us out of there."  
"I would never put my own kid up for adoption!"  
"I know Ron, but-"  
"Acting like this was all my fault!"  
"Well, you are the one that got me pregnant."  
"You should have been on birth control!"  
"You could have done the same."  
"So, do I get to see this kid before you guys put it up for adoption?" Harry said sarcastically.  
"Shut it, Harry." Ron mumbled, his ears turning an intense shade of red.  
"We should probably get out of this hallway before we get caught." Brooklyn said, obviously amused by the situation.

They all followed Brooklyn to the same recreational room where the exposed rafter resided. As Hermione cast a spell so no one would be able to get in, Harry pondered the infinite amount of ways he could go about trying to destroy the Horcrux…and every way they could go horribly wrong. One thing was for sure, the Horcrux was most likely hidden in the completed section of the rafters and they would need to get up there.

_Wingardium leviosa!"_ Hermione said.

Harry began his ascent up to the rafters, followed by Ron and then Brooklyn, who took the liberty of levitating Hermione up there with them.

Now where was it? 

More importantly…what was it?

Harry could hear creaking with each step he took. Maybe this wasn't as stable as it looked.

_"Lumos!"_ was said almost in unison by them all.

The light wasn't helping much. All that could be seen was roof beams and the beams that they were walking on, talking care to not step on the seemingly unstable floor that was the ceiling of the recreational room.

"There." Hermione said in a hushed voice. "It looks like…a cup?"  
"Helga Hufflepuff's cup." Harry said, just able to make out the small cup sitting where a ceiling and room beam connected.

Now it was in front of him. The small, fragile cup was merely two feet in front of him. He knelt down and reached out his hand. There was no invisible barrier surrounding it, but he dare not grasp the handle. 

Harry turned his head and looked at the three pairs of eyes staring at him, full of anticipation.

"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked.

Everyone looked at him for a response. 

Harry looked at the seemingly harmless cup again. "This just seems too easy."


	10. Nowhere Near Water

**Chapter 10 - Nowhere Near Water **

"Too easy?" Ron said.  
"You do remember what happened last time…" Hermione trailed off.  
"Let's just think about this for a minute." Harry said. "How can it be destroyed without actually touching it?"  
"Well…" Hermione launched a spell at the cup. It didn't so much as move. "I guess not."

They all stared at the cup, each of them appearing to be deep in thought. Every few minutes Hermione would send a spell at the cup, each no more successful than the prior attempts. The last thing Harry wanted to do was physically touch it, but with the more time that lapsed it seemed imminent.  
"Let me try something." Brooklyn spoke up.

Everyone stared at her, wondering what she could possibly do that they couldn't. She made her way in front of Harry and pointed her wand at the cup. With an intake of breath, a vivid purple light came from her wand. The cup began spinning around. Harry felt a shock of electricity run through his scar. Suddenly, Brooklyn dropped her wand and her hair was standing on end. He would have asked if she was okay, but he was the one that had ended up on the floor while she was still standing.

"Let's not do that again." Harry said, still feeling the electricity running through him as he stood up. "Just what exactly was that anyway?"  
"Dark Arts." Hermione said. "Except it's not meant to be used in that manner…at least not on inanimate objects."  
"I know, but I figured it was worth a try." Brooklyn said.  
"How did you even learn that?" Ron asked.  
"Ron, we have a Horcrux to destroy, do you really think that's relevant right now?" Harry said.  
"My dad." Brooklyn said simply as she picked up her wand. "Maybe if I hold it for longer…"  
"I really don't feel like getting electrocuted again."  
"Well, I don't either, but if it works…"  
"Let's not waste our time." Hermione interjected.  
"Yeah, let's just smash it and get it over with." Ron said.  
"There's probably an unbreakable charm on it."  
"We could at least try, go on Harry."  
"You've got to be joking…" Harry said, glaring at Ron.  
"It's just too risky, Ron." Hermione said.  
"So was coming here in the first place." Ron retorted, making a valid point.  
"This is ridiculous…" Brooklyn said.

Brooklyn pushed everyone out of the way. Before Harry even had a chance to protest, she picked up the golden cup.

Nothing seemed to be happening.

"Uh, guys…" Brooklyn started. "I can't put it down."

She held up her hand and shook it. Sure enough the cup seemed to have attached itself to her skin.

The expression of her face grew grim. Something was not right.

Suddenly she started coughing and gasping for air. She fell to her hand and knees. She appeared to be coughing up water while she banged the cup on the ground in an attempt to break it.

"She's…she's drowning!" Hermione exclaimed. "Do something!"

Harry did the only thing he could think of...

He grabbed the cup from her hand, which easily detached itself from her. Sure enough, now it was stuck on him.

"Oh brilliant…" Harry muttered.

Brooklyn was still on the floor coughing up water, Hermione by her side trying to keep her calm. Harry tried a few spells in an attempt to not drown.  
Nothing was working.

It was when he began to feel the unwelcome sensation in his lungs that he began to panic.

It happened so fast. One second he could breath, but then he couldn't. For every desperate intake of air he searched for was replaced with water. Somehow he was converting air into water as it entered his body…

A body that was not going to last long without oxygen.

He vaguely heard Hermione tell him to hold still as she once again attempted to destroy the cup.

Time was almost out. He could feel it.

His eyes darted around. Brooklyn was still trying to get all water out of her lungs, Hermione was still sending spells at his limp hand that lay beside him, Ron was kneeling next to him…

It was all going out of focus.

Never once had it occurred to him that he would die by drowning…nowhere near water.

He finally allowed his body to go limp and the black abyss to consume him.

-------------------------------------------------------

Harry began coughing violently, his vision returning to him. Large amounts of water were now attempting to escape his lungs with each forceful cough he made. He tried to stand up, only to have a hand grab a hold of his wrist.

"It goes by easier if you don't stand." Brooklyn said, her face still quite reddened from her own struggling.

Harry's only way to acknowledge her advice was to remain on the ground in a hunched over position while he continued to cough, attempting to get the oxygen to his lungs while the water continued to expel against it.

"Give me that damn cup, Ron!" Hermione yelled.

Harry turned his attention to the now drowning Ron, who seemed to be refusing to let Hermione take on the burden of the Horcrux.

"I will not let you die!" She said, trying to grab the cup from him.

Ron was able to dodge her first few attempts, but he too grew powerless under the curse that had been placed upon the Horcrux. In what must have been panic-induced, Ron drove his hand hard against a beam.

The cup did not shatter, but the cracking sounds that were heard made apparent that the force had broken his hand.

Still struggling to gain his normal breathing function back, Harry could merely watch as Hermione took the cup from Ron's disfigured hand. He fell to the floor in a coughing fit.

Brooklyn went to Hermione's side. "I can try that spell again."  
"You might send electricity to me…and that won't mix well with water." Hermione said gravely. "Any other Dark Arts you happen to know?"  
"Nothing more than the Unforgiveables, some stealth and some choice memory erasers."

Hermione merely nodded, looking over in the direction of Ron who was struggling to get water out of his lungs. A brief exchange of words was held so Harry was unable to hear. With a nod from Hermione, he watched still on his hands and knees as she held the cup out and turned her head away. The same purple light came from Brooklyn's wand and hit the Horcrux.

Harry let out a groan of pain as the same unpleasant sensation of static in his scar quickly escalated to a voltage number he didn't want to know. From his strained vision he could tell Brooklyn was in pain as well, but was still holding the spell.

"Stop!" Hermione yelled.

Brooklyn immediately lifted the spell, her hair standing on end worse than before. Harry fell forward the rest of the way between two beams, coming to rest on the unstable ceiling board. Ron's coughing fit could still be heard in the background.

"What's wrong?" Brooklyn asked.  
"I…" Hermione started. "…don't feel well."

Harry pushed his body off of the ground using the two beams on either side of him for support. He looked just time to see Brooklyn catch Hermione before she fell to the ground.

"Her…my…ne!" Ron said through coughs, crawling his way towards her.

Harry was halfway to them when the cup began to shake violently in Hermione's limp hand, startling Brooklyn who had been checking for her pulse. It stopped after a few seconds.

"Is she okay?" Harry asked apprehensively.  
"She has a pulse, but I think I knocked her out." Brooklyn said. "Maybe I held the spell too long."  
"Why…is she…blue!" Ron yelled.

Harry and Brooklyn both turned their attention to the now very pale Hermione. Her lips were turning a shade of blue. Brooklyn's breathing became rapid as she searched for a pulse along Hermione's neck.

"You …killed her?" Ron said in disbelief.  
"No…" Brooklyn's voice was barely audible. "I…"

Water began to trickle out of Hermione's mouth.

"Oh no…" Brooklyn's whisper was laced with panic. She took her wand and aimed it at Hermione. "Please work again…_Anapneo!_"

Hermione's lifeless form was unchanged.

Brooklyn repeated the spell. Again. Again. Nothing. 

She threw her wand aside and took to the muggle way of reviving people. As she pushed down on her chest and alternately gave her breaths of life, Ron voice could be heard saying indecipherable words.

As the minutes passed by, Harry came to the painful realization that there was nothing more that could be done. Her body had been deprived of oxygen for too long. With the onset of grief threatening to break, he immediately put up his barrier that would allow him to remain inordinately detached…the same barrier he knew that caused him nothing but further anguish.

Brooklyn was still vehemently trying to revive Hermione while tears silently left trails down her face.

Harry stopped her hands from pushing down again. "It's over."  
Brooklyn looked up at him, more tears threatening to fall. She shook her head. "I can do this." She brushed his hands off of hers and went to tilt Hermione's head back.  
"_Do not_ touch her!" Ron said furiously while pushing Brooklyn away.

Ron leaned over Hermione's lifeless form. Harry turned away. He couldn't bare the sight of his best mate's emotional turmoil. In his new line of sight he saw Brooklyn, who was staring helplessly at the situation in front of her. Harry remained stoic, not allowing the true impact of everything overcome him.

"I didn't mean to…" Brooklyn whispered as more tears fell from her eyes.

He turned to her. She couldn't possibly think this was her fault. If there was one thing he knew for sure about the situation, it was that the protection on that Horcrux was meant to kill someone…Hermione, unfortunately, just happened to be that someone.

It wasn't helping matters that Ron kept mumbling about Brooklyn. In particular the phrase, 'you killed my girlfriend' was uttered a few times.

By now Brooklyn had turned her back toward Ron and the lifeless form of Hermione. Harry decided to try and talk to Ron. They needed to get out of there even though he was fairly certain the Horcrux was not destroyed.

He apprehensively touched Ron's shoulder. "Ron…"  
"Leave me…alone." Ron said through tears.  
"We can't stay here."  
"I'm not going anywhere with her!" Ron said pointing at Brooklyn.  
"She didn't do anything."  
"She used dark magic on her when Hermione told her not to! You saw it, Harry! Now she's dead!"

Harry's attention was drawn from Ron's yells to Brooklyn's sobs. She was hitting herself in the head while berating herself for being so daft.

This was just not a good situation.

"H-hermione?" Ron's hopeful voice said.

Both Harry and Brooklyn turned around. Hermione's hand twitched loose from the cup and her eyes began to flutter open. Ron face was overcome with joy as she clumsily tried to sit up. Her expressionless face looked at Ron, but then quickly turned in Harry's direction. She quite briskly stood up and stumbled over towards him. She stopped and stared at him with the same expressionless face. Ron's confusion laced voice could be heard calling her name. Hermione turned her gaze toward Brooklyn next and stumbled over the beams towards her. Her expressionless face still did not falter, but her actions did.

In one quick movement, Hermione had pushed Brooklyn to the ground and was on top of her, strangling her. Brooklyn's hands were attached to Hermione's wrist trying to pry her off so she could get air. Harry immediately went for his wand and was about to send a spell right at Hermione.

Harry found the end of another wand pointed at his head.

"I won't let you hurt her." Ron said.  
"Ron…this is _not_ Hermione. Hermione is dead." Harry said.  
"SHE IS NOT!"  
"That's an inferi Ron! Hermione is gone!"  
"Shut it, Harry! Don't make me do this!"

Brooklyn had managed to get away from the grasps of the inferi, but was still being pursued by it. Harry couldn't wait any longer and only hoped that Ron wouldn't do something to hurt him in return.

_"Circulus Incendo!"_

No sooner did the ring of fire surround the inferi did Harry hear the word _Crucio_ said. The sheer surprise that Ron would have used an Unforgivable on him knocked him to the ground.

Pain however, was next to none.

Harry stood up while still being held under the curse, causing Ron to lift it.

Harry started laughing. "You've never used that before, have you Ron?"

He reminded himself of Bellatrix Lestrange at that moment and an internal shudder went through his body.

"Harry…" Brooklyn's voice called out to him.

He turned his attention towards her. She was pointing at the now twitching inferi body of Hermione that lay burning on the ground. However, that was not what she was pointing at.

The quickly spreading fire was now in need of their attention and he wasted no time in putting it out. Harry turned to where Ron had been standing, but he was no longer there. He rolled his eyes, wishing Ron would actually think before acting for once.

Harry approached Brooklyn, who was now sitting alongside the lifeless inferi body.

"We need to get out of here." He said. "The Ministry will be here soon since Ron cast an Unforgivable."  
Brooklyn nodded. "What about…" She pointed to Hermione.  
"We'll…have to take her with us."

Harry knelt down to pick up Hermione's body, but something else caught his eye.

The cup was still sitting on the ground a few feet away.

He turned back to Brooklyn. She had already gotten in a position to apparate herself and Hermione out of there. She was just waiting for the okay to leave. Harry nodded and they were gone a second later.

He knelt down next to the golden cup and cautiously reached out his hand. If he were to start drowning again, there would be no help this time. With a deep breath, he grabbed its handle and released it just as fast.

It was no longer adhering itself to his skin.

He picked it up and examined it closer. There was now a crack going down the center of the carefully engraved badger.

The Horcrux had been destroyed.

A dull ache began resonating in his scar. He had a feeling that Voldemort was able to feel the destruction of another bit of his soul and was not exactly pleased about it.

While rubbing his head with one hand, he heard a crack come from below, quickly followed by another one.

"Well, everything looks good to me, let's go." One of the voice's said.  
"Just because you were arguing with your wife when you got called away does not mean that you can investigate this carelessly!" The other said.   
"You don't know my wife…"

Deciding his was probably a good time to leave, Harry took one last look around to make sure no evidence was left that could be traced back to any of them.

With a sigh, he disapparated, not wanting to confront what was about to greet him when he returned to Grimmauld Place.


	11. Light of Hope

**Chapter 11 - Light of Hope**

"I cannot _believe_ you let _her_ bring Hermione back here!" Ron yelled not two seconds after Harry appeared in Grimmauld Place. 

Harry looked around. Hermione's lifeless body lay on the settee by the fireplace, Ron standing protectively close. His wand was aimed at Brooklyn. She had backed herself into the wall, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to calm down.

It must have been working…she had stopped crying.

"Ron, lower your wand." Harry said.  
"Why? So _she_ can use dark magic on us next?" Ron spat.  
"Ron…"  
"What are you going to do Harry, huh?"  
"Unlike you, I know how to use the Cruciatus Curse."

Ron's face paled considerably, but he barely lowered his wand. Harry made sure to not look at the motionless form on the couch as he turned his gaze towards Brooklyn. He moved in her direction and her eyes locked on him. Her guilt ridden eyes…

"This wasn't your fault." Harry said reaching for her. "You know that, right?"  
"Not her fault? _Not her fault!_ She killed her and she knows it!" Ron yelled. "Just look at her! 'Guilty' might as well be written on her forehead!"

Harry could hear Brooklyn's breathing become shaky. He needed to calm both her and Ron down before either one of them did something stupid. He rubbed her arm in a comforting gesture and then headed back over to Ron.

"I hope you plan on kicking her out now. I wouldn't want to have her murder us while we sleep." Ron scoffed.  
"And since when do you give me orders in _my_ house?" Harry countered, the first dregs of true anger rising up.  
"I'm _trying_ to protect you!"  
"Protect me from what? A girl that I can easily overpower anytime? Please Ron." Harry's voice was laced with sarcasm.  
"Easily overpower?" Brooklyn repeated, sounding annoyed.  
"See!" Ron said in triumph. "She's already threatening you!"  
"I was not threatening him!" Brooklyn protested.  
"Shut it! Both of you!" Harry said, rubbing his forehead. "This is _not_ helping matters."  
"Nothing is going to help matters! Hermione is dead!" Ron yelled. "And it-"  
"It _is not_ her fault."  
"You've been treating _her_ better than us lately! Now you'll have to live with that on your conscience forever now that she's gone!"  
Harry gaped as Ron's words processed in his head. Ron had pushed too far this time.  
"There's no more room on this conscience, try your own." Harry spat inches from his face.  
Ron glowered. "All you have to do to make more room is to get rid of your self-proclaimed burden standing over there."

Ron once again pointed his wand at Brooklyn and this time it looked like he was about to attack her. Diffusing matters, Harry pulled on her arm until she was located safely behind him. Ron's eyes narrowed.

"If it wasn't for Hermione I would have kicked you out of my house by now." Harry said through gritted teeth.  
"Throw _me_ out!" Ron said dumbfounded.  
"Did I stutter?"  
"Fine. I'll take her and go. I'll explain to her parents what happened and who's to blame for all of this."  
"You mean you're going to tell them lies."  
"No! I'm going to tell them it was HER!" Ron yelled trying to get a decent aim at Brooklyn, who was still behind Harry.  
"No," Harry said dangerously, shaking his head. "It was Voldemort's doing, Ron. So leave, and don't come back until you remember what this is all about."

Without another word, Ron bent down and picked up Hermione's lifeless, half charred body. He turned to Harry one last time.

"It's good to know where I stand after seven years of friendship." Ron spat, his voice unusually cold. "By the way…_Happy Birthday_."

A happy birthday indeed.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Noises disturbed Harry's oddly peaceful sleep. The noises were coming from the room next to his that should be empty….

He quickly grabbed his earlier discarded clothing that lye on the floor and put them on, picking up a spare sock before leaving. Without knocking, he opened the door next to his. Brooklyn had just about finished packing her belongings.

"What are you doing?" He asked, slightly panicked.  
"Packing my things." Brooklyn said. "I found a place. I'll be moving in in two days."  
"I thought-"  
"Harry, please." She pleaded. "I can't stay here."  
"Why not?"  
"Harry I just can't stay here. Can we just leave it at that?"  
Harry was not about to let her walk out of there without an explanation. "No. We cannot leave it at that. I want to know why."  
She took a piece of parchment from her pocket and threw it at him. "_That_ is why I'm leaving. Not to mention what has been in the Daily Prophet lately."

He opened the parchment, but didn't read it. His eyes caught two words that explained the entirety of the letter.

Hermione. Funeral.

"Brook, we've been over this so many times…" Harry started.  
"Too many times." She said. "And stop calling me Brook, it's irritating."  
"Why didn't you say something a week ago when I started calling you that then?"  
"Because…I kept forgetting to mention it." She stammered.  
"Forgetting?" he asked skeptically.  
"Yes forgetting. You were so wrapped up in trying to convince me things weren't my fault that I was quite preoccupied with trying to get you to shut it."  
"Shut it? Me? You were the one who was constantly worrying about Ron coming after you and that rubbish printed in the Daily Prophet! I was only trying to calm you down!"

_Brooklyn had locked herself in the drawing room. All of the coaxing in the world could not bring her out. When Harry tried to forcefully enter the room, he was immediately hit by a stinging spell. He took the hint and retreated, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts._

He had taught himself not to think about the pain. For he was one that could not afford to be weakened by the sorrows of life…especially the one he had been dealt. Alas, he was about to return to unresolved emotions that would lead him back to the dark place he was in not so long ago. The light of hope he had finally been able to see was about to be lost again.

And he was making the conscious decision to let it slip away.

Then Ron showed up.

"I've come for her things." Ron said.

Ron made no effort to look at Harry and walked straight up the stairs to the room Hermione had been staying in. Harry followed cautiously, watching as Ron packed her things from the doorway. Ron paused, holding one of her shirts in his hand. 

"This was her favorite." He whispered.

Harry could see the tears begin to run down the sides of his face as he continued to stare at the shirt in his hands.

"Ron…" Harry had no idea what he was going to say when he began that sentence.  
"Thought you might like to see this." Ron said coldly.

He pulled the Daily Prophet out of his cloak and threw it at Harry's head. Harry caught it and unrolled it, revealing yesterday's paper. Low and behold, there was the picture Harry assumed would make its way into the paper, with a headline quite close to what Brooklyn had stated. Harry didn't bother to read the article and continued to watch Ron, desperately trying to think of something to say.

Ron stood up when he had finished packing Hermione's things, wiping his face from the tears that had escaped from his eyes. He walked straight up to Harry and glared at him for a minute before he finally spoke.

"Still coming to her defense I take it?" Ron hissed.  
"Ron, don't do this." Harry said calmly. "Hermione wouldn't want us arguing like this."  
"Don't talk about her like you actually care!"  
"I do care, Ron! How can you even think that I don't!"  
"Because you defend her murderer! If she didn't try to kill her then explain to me why the supposed inferi only attacked her!"  
"It was probably instructed to attack muggle-borns!"  
"We don't even know if she is muggle-born!" Ron yelled, clearly growing angrier. "You know what, I've heard enough from you! Have fun with your murdering girlfriend or whatever she is to you, because she's blatantly more important to you than your friends!"

Before Harry even had the chance to retort, Ron apparated out of there. 

"She didn't do anything wrong…" Harry said to the spot where Ron had been standing.

He decided it would probably be best if he put the Daily Prophet in a place where Brooklyn wouldn't find it. It would probably upset her even more.

Naturally, she found it. 

"And what did it always result in?" She pushed. "Where did all of that talking lead us every time?"

Harry didn't respond even though he knew the answer and let his fingers examine the material of the sock in his hand.

"You know exactly where it led to." She said. "Speaking of which, your shirt is inside out."  
"You left your sock…" He said, tossing it to her.  
"I'm sorry. I just can't let this turn into something more."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I don't want something like that! I gave up on relationships a long time ago!"  
"Then why even start something with me!"  
"I thought you knew and understood that it meant absolutely _nothing!_"  
"Except you have a problem now." He said coolly.  
"And what would that be?" She challenged, her arms crossed.  
"It's turned into something more for you." He moved closer to her.  
"Harry…don't." She warned.  
"You don't have to leave, Brook." He murmered, running his fingers down her arm.  
"Don't call me that."  
"Don't leave." He breathed into her ear.

He took his hands and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her eyes were already closed as he cupped her face with his hands. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, feeling the slight movement of her bottom lip that he already knew well.

"This is something more." He said. "You _are_ something more to me."

He went to draw her to him again, but she stopped him.

"I can't do this." She said, backing away from him.

She picked up the sock that was left lying on the floor and put it in her bag. She picked up her bag and headed for the door.

"I'm going to stay in my dad's house for the next few days," She said. "And there's nothing you can do to change my mind."

He knew by the tone in her voice that he was defeated and he unwillingly accepted this as she drew closer to the door. While she cursed at her broken zipper on her bag, he heard a tapping on the window. It was a post owl carrying a letter. He opened the window and allowed the owl, as well as the chilling October air, in. The owl dropped the letter to Brooklyn and retreated back outside.

"It's about time! I thought they forgot about me," she said after quickly scanning the letter.  
"What is it?" Harry asked.  
"A new work schedule. In fact, I should probably change now."

Harry showed himself out and went downstairs, not wanting this looming farewell to be their last. He would ask for her new address. They would meet up. She would have changed her mind about him by then, right? He groaned and was internally punching himself for even thinking those thoughts. If there was one thing he knew for sure about Brooklyn in the few months span that he had known her, it was that she was not easily persuaded once she had made a decision.

Just when he was about to administer the final blow to all of his hope on her, he heard her clear her throat behind him. He turned around and saw her standing there in the only outfit she had that actually fit her figure. A figure that was no longer emaciated thanks to him.

He stared at her. His memory was being jogged by the sight of that outfit. By no means were they coherent memories, but they were memories. 

"What?" She asked. "Is there something wrong with the uniform?"

He got a sickening feeling as he replayed the memory in his head.

_"Harry, can I talk to you?" An apprehensive voice asked.  
Harry, who was laughing hysterically at something Brooklyn had just said, turned around to see Ginny standing behind him.  
"You are talking me." He said with a stupid grin.  
"I meant alone." Ginny said as her eyes quickly glanced at Brooklyn, then back to him.  
"I'll go." Brooklyn said as she began to stand up.  
"Please don't leave, I was enjoying our conversation!" Harry protested, grabbing her hand._

Once he had a firm grip on it, he pulled her back down to her chair and moved her chair very close to his own. He placed her hand on the table and kept his hand over hers; attempting to make sure she was not going to leave.

"Now, what were you saying, Ginny?" Harry said with a stupid grin.  
"I-uh…Harry can we please go somewhere to talk?" Ginny pleaded.  
Harry let out an overdramatic sigh. "Oh alright!" He turned to Brooklyn. "You better be here when I get back!"

Harry stood up and stumbled along behind Ginny to a corner of the room. He didn't even notice the fidgeting Ginny since all that was on his mind was the fact that he was very upset that he had left his glass of champagne on the table. He really wanted that champagne.

"I miss you Harry." Ginny finally said. "I miss you a lot."  
Harry almost laughed at her comment that he for some reason found amusing.  
"I just think that things ended kind of abruptly and that, well, they shouldn't have ended at all," she said while looking off to the side.  
The situation was growing increasingly amusing to Harry and for the life of him he didn't know why. By now he was letting his smile show.  
Ginny stepped forward and took his hands in hers. "I think we should start over, or we could just pick up where we left off."  
He couldn't help himself. He started laughing. Ginny did not look amused by his reaction.  
"Why are you laughing?" Ginny demanded.  
"I'm sorry! I don't know why!" Harry said, still laughing. He looked back towards the table he had been sitting at. His drink and Brooklyn were no longer there. "I thought I told her to stay put!"  
"Is that why you're laughing at me? Because of this server you just started talking to? What is she going to give you some action after the reception? Is that why you don't want to lose sight of her!" Ginny was definitely not a happy person.  
Harry rubbed his forehead. "I seriously need my drink right now."  
"Well then go find your slut for the night and get it. I'm sure she's probably serving some more."  
"Hey now! You don't even know her, be nice."  
"You don't know her either!"  
"She's a lot nicer than you are right now."

He turned and began walking away. Before he knew it, he had been turned around quickly. His head felt like it was spinning, but that only registered momentarily before being taken over by the fact that Ginny had just pulled him into a kiss.

He pulled himself away. "What the hell Ginny?"  
"You taste like alcohol." she said.  
"Well, he has been drinking it." Brooklyn's voice came. "You left this at the table; I thought you might want it. I have to get back to work now."  
"No! Let's go sit down and talk!" Harry said grabbing her hand and leading her over to the table they had been sitting at before he had gotten up. Saying parting words to Ginny never even crossed his mind.  
"Was that a former girlfriend?" Brooklyn asked after sitting down.  
Harry nodded while drinking from his glass.  
"To hell with relationships, they're so overrated and pointless."  
"I'll drink to that!" Harry said before finishing off his glass.  
"Glad to know that someone agrees with me." Brooklyn said with a smile. 

"No, nothing's wrong with your uniform." Harry said somewhat dejectedly.  
"Well, I need to get going." She said walking towards him. "Letting me stay here with you for this time really has meant a lot to me. I really appreciate it."  
"It was nothing really." He said while staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.  
"I-uh guess I'll see you around then." She said.  
He glanced up, hoping that she couldn't see his pleading eyes. "Yeah. See you around."

She smiled at him before turning and walking toward the door. Every muscle in his body was begging him to move forward, but his brain would not send them the signal to do so. Instead he stood there with his hands in his pockets and watched her walk out of the door. He knew she had no intention of ever seeing him again.

And as the door closed, so did his light of hope.


	12. The Let's Blame Harry Potter Club

**Chapter 12 - The Let's Blame Harry Potter Club **

Funerals. 

A word Harry had not grown very fond of.

He tried not to hear the somber words spoken by McGonagall intermingling with the low sound of muffled sobbing amongst the crowd. Not all were in control of their emotions as he was and the broken sounds tearing from their hearts was testing his reserves.

He also avoided looking over at Ron at all costs, for the accusatory stare was too much. Too look at Ron meant to acknowledge how much pain he was in, to know that he was feeling the same pain. Acknowledging this pain was something he did not want to do.

Attempting to avoid the probing gaze that Ginny was giving him was proving slightly more difficult. He could only hope that he would be able to dodge an encounter with her afterward.

The disapproving glare that Hermione's mother was giving to Luna Lovegood and all who surrounded her was almost unbearable. Luna sat to the right of Harry and wore a bright red outfit. She believed that it was a happy occasion when people passed on to the other side, reuniting with their loved ones and finding peace.

Clearly many did not agree with her belief…especially Mrs. Granger.

But most of all, he was trying to avoid his own thoughts. For what seemed like hours he stared at the fallen orange tinged leaf that had blown into Pavarati's hair and had gotten stuck in her hair clip. The leaf seemed to struggle to free itself each time a gust of wind passed by. And after what proved to have been only five minutes, it was free to float amongst the grassy plain once more…far away from here, the funeral, the angry stares, but upon all else, the pain.

The seventh circle of hell that he seemed to be stuck in finally ended. His intense discomfort somehow lessening as Mr. and Mrs. Granger finally stood, striding down the aisle, two small books clutched tightly to their chests. At the aisles end they too placed the books besides her photograph, besides the carnations surrounding her urn, besides her memorial board full of moving photographs.

A moment later the carnations were set aflame, slowly burning the photographs, the books and the memorial board. The ashes of these were scooped together, joined with Hermione's as they were cast across Hogwart's lake, forever to float and remain upon the breezes and gently crashing waves.

Harry found himself being led away by his hands. Had it not been for the vibrant red bangles clanging together against her wrists, he probably would not have noticed that it was Luna leading him away. It was then that his composure finally broke.

She sat with him, hidden from the views of the others behind an ancient oak tree, as he struggled to regain control of himself. It was when he saw someone approaching them that he turned his back to her. She didn't say a word the whole time they were secluded by the tree, only whispered a goodbye when her father finally reached them.

He was now left with the thoughts that caused him to lose his composure. Hermione's limp, half charred form, Ron's angry, hate filled eyes and the sound of Brooklyn's footsteps on the cold, wooden floor as she left 12 Grimmauld Place.

Now he was truly alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------

If it had not been for the Creevy brothers sighting of Harry as he prepared to apparate far, far away from Hogwarts, who knows where he would be right now.

Wherever the far away paradise might be, it was definitely not where he was…forced to mingle amongst the mourners inside of the Great Hall.

Or in Harry's case, attempting to avoid the mingling, for he was drawn to any space or corner that was unoccupied, constantly ready to make swift movements to avoid conversations…friendly or not.

As his eyes stealthily scanned over the Great Hall, he briefly paused on Neville. Harry immediately recalled yelling at him in Diagon Alley months prior and now guilt was added to his growing list of unwanted emotions for the day. Neville immediately turned away as soon as eye contact was established between them both.

Blatantly Harry's outburst had a lasting effect on Neville.

As Harry continued to scan the room, he saw Ron quickly approaching with his hated filled eyes. Upon swift inspection of the room, he decided his best option was to leave the Great Hall as fast as humanly possible. This in Harry's case would have been a lot faster if he didn't have to weave in and out of people who would keep trying to stop him to talk. 

Harry exited the Great Hall and rounded the corner, leaning up against the wall to catch his breath from sprinting down the hallway. Ron was no where in sight. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground.

As he held his head in his hands, he heard footsteps coming closer to him. Without looking up he knew it was Ron and he saw no point in trying to outrun him again. His face remained hidden in his hands until the footsteps stopped in front of him.

"Fancy seeing you here." Ron said with the utmost sarcasm.  
Harry did not respond, nor did he raise his head to look at his best friend.   
"Wonder why _the_ Harry Potter was running away from his supposed best friend's funeral." Ron said with fake thoughtfulness. "Oh! I bet it was the guilt he finally feels for treating her like crap and defending her murderer!"  
Harry let his hands drop from his face and was now staring at Ron's shoes, but he still did not respond.  
"It's only a matter of time now before everyone here finds out what you've done and once that happens…well, let's just say I definitely wouldn't want to be you." Ron sneered.  
"It's Hermione's funeral Ron, lay off the accusations for today." Harry finally responded.  
Ron knelt down until he was at Harry's level, forcing Harry to look into his eyes. "I'm holding off from hexing you into oblivion for today, that's more than enough."  
Harry had lost all energy he had to defend himself against Ron's accusations and threats and found himself just staring blankly into eyes that clearly wanted to cause him harm.   
Ron fiercely stood up. "The best thing that ever happened to my sister was when you left her. Now the best thing to ever happen to my family is when you stopped associating with us." Ron glared down at Harry with such hate he had never seen before from him. "Are we _clear_ on that, Potter?"  
Harry found his eyes observing the ground once more. "Crystal…" He whispered.

Ron's footsteps faded away and Harry found himself alone in the hallway again. He was quite certain that if Ron's tried the Cruciatus curse on him again it would be much more effective than his last attempt. A conjured, somewhat small bottle of alcohol found its way into his hand and he soon felt the burning sensation of the liquid going down his throat. He wanted to forget everything that was happening and since he was no good with memory charms, he found this to be his alternative.

It worked for the wedding, why not for a funeral?

After a fairly quick consumption of half of the bottle, he felt no effects. Feeling frustrated by this, there was soon only a fourth of the liquid left in the bottle. He realized that much in such a short time span was probably not the best idea, so he decided not to drink the rest. When he finally stood up, he became aware why his still somewhat rational side got rid of the rest. 

Harry knew he was a lightweight compared to most, but he knew he could handle alcohol better than this. But, to be fair, this was consumed very rapidly. Yes. That's right. That's why he was already using the wall as a guide to not accidentally wander off in the wrong direction…well, not stagger off in the wrong direction. No. He was not staggering. It had only been ten, fifteen minutes tops since he drank it, he couldn't be.

Thinking back on it, he didn't even know what exactly he had conjured. All he knew was that he was thinking high alcohol content and a second later there was a bottle in his hands…he just assumed it was firewhiskey. The fact was that whatever it was, he just drank it too fast.

He realized he was at the Great Hall again when he heard the moderate noise level of conversations going on. By now, he really wanted to get out so he could get into an apparation zone. He was going to pass in front of the Great Hall's open doors as fast as he could. He broke out into a run, only to come to a complete standstill.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily." An annoyed Ginny said.   
As Ginny lead him back to the hallway he had just came from, Harry was wishing for the last fourth of that bottle.  
"If Ron saw me talking to you, he'd probably kill you." She said. "Not that I don't think you deserve a good hexing for certain things…"  
Harry closed his eyes and rolled them so Ginny couldn't see his reaction.  
"Like how you treated me at the wedding." She said. "I think you owe me an apology."  
"I-uh, yeah. Sorry." Harry said in response to his broken memory about the incident.  
"Sorry for what, Harry? Completely ignoring me or lying to me about getting with that server? I saw the pictures in the paper you know!"  
"Well, I-I-I was referring to ignoring you. And just so, just so you know, I did not _get with_ that server…well, not until way after that at least."  
"Ugh! You disgust me Harry!"  
"Why? Because you never did anything like that with me?" Harry had a feeling he shouldn't have said that.  
Ginny appeared embarrassed. Really embarrassed.  
"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, have said that."  
"Are you still?"  
"An-br-sh-wait…what?" Harry didn't know what he was responding to due to the fact he was distracted by the shadow of his hand moving on the wall.  
Ginny gave him an odd look. "Are you still with her?"  
"Oooohhh, Brook?"  
"Well, if that's her name, yeah." Ginny said, blatantly losing patience.   
Harry's shoulders slumped as he shook his head dejectedly. "S-she, she left."

Ginny mumbled something that Harry couldn't understand, nor was he about to ask her to repeat it. Her figure was moving slowly from side to side, but he knew it was from his current deteriorating state.

"I have some information for you." She said. "It's from a reliable source."  
"Huh? What? What?" Harry had no idea what she was talking about and his attention span was basically nonexistent by now.  
"I will send you an owl in the next few days. Remember, if Ron finds out…"   
"Me kills dead."  
"Uh, yeah, something like that."   
"Ginny, do you think me Ron told you death was right?" He said quickly.  
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Harry. Go home and sober up."

He wasn't about to argue with that statement, so he followed a short distance behind Ginny back to the Great Hall, still using the wall as his 'guide'. He proceeded to follow her into the Great Hall. Wait. That isn't right. He wasn't suppose to actually go into the Great Hall, he was supposed to walk passed it. 

He slapped his hand to his forehead. "Brilliant job, Harry!"  
The volume of his voice was higher than he had intended it to be and by now most people in the room were staring at him.  
"What are you lot looking at?" He said while rolling his eyes, which only seemed to worsen the instability of his vision.   
"You…" A very unfriendly woman's voice said. "The nerve of you to even come here today!"  
Harry was already off staring at the ceiling. It wasn't bewitched like it usually was.  
"This is your entire fault!" Mrs. Granger seethed. "My daughter would be alive if it wasn't for you!"  
Harry only heard the first part before he got distracted by the man approaching them both.  
"Honey, you need to-" Mr. Granger began.  
"I don't need to do anything!" She screamed at him before turning back to Harry. "I know _all_ about how my daughter died. I know all about why she dropped out to school to join you on your _little quest_."  
For the first time, Mrs. Granger had is full attention.  
"That's right, I know everything that you've been doing the past few months…and I do mean _everything_." She smirked evilly and elevated her voice. "Would everyone here like to know what Harry Potter has been doing instead of going to school?"  
Everyone was silent, but curiosity plagued every pair of eyes.

Harry, however, was focusing now and felt quite coherent. He had taken way too much for one day and this had pushed him too far. For Harry was about to tell off his dead best friend's mother and anyone else that so much as looked at him the wrong way. 

Harry's eyes narrowed on her. "Well I'm sooo glad to see that you are the newest member of the 'let's blame Harry Potter' club! After all it's sooo easy to join!"

Mrs. Granger shook her head, appearing shocked that he just yelled at her like that. But he was nowhere close to being done with her. Nowhere close….

"You wanna know _whyyy_ your daughter joined me on my _little quest_! DO YOU!" Harry answered his rhetorical question. "I told 'er to stay away! I told 'er, I told 'er it was too dangerous! But she wouldn't, she wouldn't take no for an answer, because she was my friend and she loved me too much to let me do this on my own! Are you happy now! Are you happy that I lost my best friend that I loved so much!"

Mrs. Granger opened her mouth to speak, but there was no way he was going to let her get a word in before he was done.

"If yoouuu wanna be the one wita prophecy hangin over your head sayin you're the _ooonly one_ who can defeat Voldemort, THAN FINE BECAUSE I DON'T WANT IT!"

There were audible gasps throughout the room with frantic whisperings. Harry was momentarily distracted by Ron, who was now banging his head up against the wall.

A very drunk and belligerent Harry had let the biggest secret in the wizarding world slip and he could care less.

"What? Surprised!" He snapped at everyone in the room before turning his attention back on Mrs. Granger. "And that, Mrs. Granger, is why Hermione was helpin me. She knew that by helpin me she'd help stop Voldemort. She knew, knew that _you and her family_ would be in danger EVERY DAY THAT, THAT HE IS ALIVE! Incase, incase you haven't noticed, THIS IS A DAMN WAR!"

Suddenly Tonks appeared beside him and grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him towards the doors. Harry was not very receptive to this and fought back, only to have her grab both of his arms behind him and drag him with all that she had towards the doors.

Harry, however, was going to finish is little speech, being dragged out or not.

"Why Hermione chose to leave school was _not_ due to some teenage rebellion bullshit! Wake up and get out of the protective, naive bubble you Muggles live in and realize that some of us wizards, like your daughter, are _dyyyiiinnnggg_ to protect you naive, unappreciative bastards!"

With that said, Tonks's wand was aimed at the doors and in a matter of seconds, every single astonished face was gone.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Stop fighting me, Harry!" Tonks pleaded. "I need to get you home."   
"Home already! I was having a bloody _brilliant_ time! Why stop the fun now!" Harry was finally able to shove Tonks off of him, causing her to fall to the ground.

He began to tread heavily away, making sure to step on every single cluster of dead leaves on the ground, their crackling sounds reiterating his anger. Missing a particularly large cluster he was aiming for, he stopped and scowled at them.

"Think you can escape from being crushed do ya!" He shouted at the inanimate bunch before him. "Well, well think again!"

He aimed directly for the center of the pile as he stomped, but only hit the edge. A gust of wind came and some leaves from the pile were carried away.

"Yeah, you do that! You go back to where you came from!" He turned to the trees that were in the not so far away distance. "Com'on and claim what you lost!"  
"Harry, if you don't stop making a complete fool of yourself…" Tonks' voice came.  
"OH! I know what the problem is! I bet they, I'm bettin they got lost on the way to the blaming Harry Potter club's first official meeting!" He started waiving his arms in the air in the direction of the castle. "They're ALLLL in there and I bet they would looooovvvvveeee to have sommoorr members!"  
"Alright, Harry, I've had enough of this, now stop with this nonsense!"

Tonks had been trying to keep up with Harry, who was walking quite briskly on the grounds in constantly changing directions. He hadn't been aware of that fact until he decided to change directions again and ran right into her and fell to the ground…into the same pile of leaves he been yelling at previously.

He let out a disapproving grunt and attempted to stand up. He failed miserably. A hand that seemed to be forming into two appeared in front of him. 

"Meave le alone." He muttered to Tonks' outstretched arm. "Back you there so they can blame on me."

Tonks rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. With a forceful tug, he freed himself from her again and began to crawl away since standing was proving to be unattainable.

"One of them!" He shouted at her. "You are!"

He felt the back of his cloak being pulled at and soon found himself standing. Before he even had the chance to think of moving, he found himself completely frozen in place. Tonks was now levitating his immobile form to wherever she planned on taking him.

"Harry Potter, you are an insufferable drunk."


	13. Keeping Secrets

**Chapter 13 - Keeping Secrets**

Being immobilized by females Harry knew seemed to be happening to him frequently as of late. First Brooklyn did it so she could yell at him without interruption, then Ginny at the funeral as he tried to run past the Great Hall, now Tonks seemed to be utilizing this time much like Brooklyn had.

"Whoops, hit your head again." Tonks said nonchalantly as she levitated Harry down the hallway.

That was the fourth time she had _accidentally_ run him into something.

She finally set him down in a bedroom that was not his own. In fact, the house was not his own. She had taken him back to her place. Still unable to move, Tonks paced in front of him a few times before she spoke, her hair now a vivacious shade of red.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking!" Tonks said reproachfully. "Do you have _any_ idea what you have just done!"

Harry was ready with a witty remark, but was still unable to respond.

"Oh this is _not_ good. How am I supposed to explain this to the Order! Oh, well you see Harry got himself drunk and then went on about this prophecy that we didn't even know about, but now we do and so does everyone else. Oh yes, that should go over spectacularly!"

Tonks kept rambling, but he wasn't paying attention. He was more interested in how he was still standing since everything in his line of vision was completely unsteady. He would catch words every now and again. Daft. Belligerent. Irresponsible…he heard that one quite a few times.

Suddenly he fell to the ground. He was now free to move and, more importantly, respond.

Harry wasn't even going to attempt to get up, so he spoke from his sitting position. "Who do, who you think you lecturin me, my mother!"  
Tonks looked taken back by the severity of his voice. "Harry, don't you even _think_ of trying to make me feel guilty."

He would have loved to have responded to that, but he was unable to. Instead he scrambled over to the adjoining bathroom where he remained until his body was too exhausted to allow him to be sick anymore.

When he finally awoke, he found himself tucked securely in bed. Much to his surprise he wasn't suffering from a headache, though he still didn't feel the best. He sat up to observe his surroundings and found he was alone in the room. The sun also appeared to be setting. Or was it rising? He had no idea how long he had been out for.

He quickly realized he had not accomplished his goal of forgetting the events that had taken place.

Trying his best not to think about the prior events, he placed his hand on the end table to help himself out of bed, only to hear something fall to the floor. He didn't pay any mind and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. It was when he took his first step forward that he knew he should have picked up whatever had fallen to the floor first. He picked up the bottle that was now right next to his shoulder.

Hangover potion.

Tonks must have forced him to take it at some point. He was definitely not going to complain about that.

Just as he was about to pull himself off of the ground, he heard the sound of numerous pairs of feet coming towards the door. Staying where he was on the ground, hidden from the entrance to the room, seemed to be a good option for the time being. 

"Where is he!" A voice that could only belong to Mad-Eye Moody himself came. "Where is that rotten, secret-keeping bastard!"

Harry sat up enough to be able to see the doorway. He could see shadows on the wall in the hallway now. 

"_Don't_ say such things about him!" Tonks snapped back.

Harry's eyes widened a bit when Moody appeared in the doorway, both of his eyes focused on him.

"Well, well, well…there's the bastard himself!" Moody taunted while stepping into the room.  
Harry sighed as he stood up. He'd be damned if he had this all pinned on him. "Bet you wouldn't be saying that to Dumbledore, would you Moody?"  
"Course not!" Moody almost laughed. "He wasn't a rotten secret-keeping bastard like yourself!"

Tonks, McGonagoll and Shacklebot were now also present in the room, all looking at him expectantly. Moody was merely five feet away from him now. He had a feeling he was about to grab him and start shaking him for an answer.

Harry however, was not about to give him that satisfaction. Instead, he picked up the fallen bottle of potion and placed it back on the end table, then proceeded to make the bed that he had slept in.

"Damn you boy, answer me!" Moody yelled.  
Harry abruptly turned to face him. "For your information, Dumbledore was keeping this little secret from everyone and only told me about it last year. He also made me promise to not tell a soul." He turned his back to him and went back to tending to the sheets. "So, who's the bastard now?"

Harry was about to grab the top blanket when he felt a very strong, suffocating grip come around his neck.

"Anything else you'd like to say about Albus Dumbledore you minging smart arse?"  
"Let him go, Moody." Shacklebot said with natural authority.

Moody let him go. Well, he pushed him fiercely and he ended up face first on the bed. He had a feeling Moody had meant for him to fall on the floor. Harry lifted himself up off the bed, but decided to remain sitting this time.

"How long did Dumbledore know about this prophecy?" Shacklebot asked.  
"Since Professor Trelawney first made it at her interview for the Divination position." Harry stated simply.  
"What about You-Know-Who?" Tonks said.  
"Probably knows by now, but what the hell does it matter, he is going to try and kill me anyway." Harry said, trying to mask the anger he felt rising inside of him.  
"Don't…" Tonks said preemptively to Moody.  
"This changes a lot." Shacklebot said thoughtfully and exited the room after, quickly followed by Moody.  
"It would probably be best if you kept a low profile for the next few days." McGonagall said, giving Harry a reassuring pat on the back. "Not everyone is against you, Harry. Remember that."

---------------------------------------------------------

_Dear Harry,_

Before I even begin, I cannot tell you where I received this information, for I will lose this channel if I reveal it. Just know that it is from a very reliable source. With that said, I know where you can find whatever it is that you are looking for. You're not going to like this, but you are going to have to go back to the graveyard where Tom Riddle is buried. I would offer my help, but I'm not even going to bother because I know you'd find a way to get rid of me anyway.  
About the funeral…I don't know what really happened when Hermione died and I've heard so many different stories about it …I guess I just want to say that I can't and don't believe that you would have purposefully hurt her in any way.   
I hope you are doing better. When I last saw you, you were pretty drunk and yelling at everyone, not to mention the whole prophecy thing (which EVERYONE is still talking about). Well, I hope things have gotten better for you. Hogwarts really isn't the same without you.

Best,  
Ginny

Oh wonderful. Back to that God forsaken graveyard. Just brilliantly spectacular. Of _all_ of the places he would have to go, why did it have to be back there? He immediately found himself thinking of Cedric. How he had taken his lifeless body back to his father. Anytime Cedric had entered his mind, he immediately wished it was only him that had been transported to the graveyard.

It would be only him this time. He wasn't about to have another Cedric incident happen.

But the truth of the matter was…he didn't want to go alone.

Maybe Ginny was wrong. After all, he had no idea where she had gotten this information from. He had nothing else to go on though. He hadn't been able to think straight since the funeral. The same cycle of thoughts would keep breaking his concentration when he would try to focus.

Everything was going so horribly wrong, especially after Dumbledore's death. He pushed away the only girl that ever loved him, accidentally got Mundungus killed, got his very own Dark Mark while destroying a Horcrux and everyone found out about it, Voldemort succeeded in possessing him, Hermione died trying to help destroy another Horcrux, Ron now hates him, the only person he had left to relate to and was starting to care for left him, he blabbed about the prophecy, and he's been drunk on one too many occasions afterward.

Harry Potter officially hated his life.

He threw Ginny's letter into the fire. There was no way he would forget what it said. He sighed as he looked at the half-empty highball glass. Tonks was going to yell at him again when she got back. He didn't really understand why, he always replenished what he took.

He was beginning to wonder where Tonks went everyday. She left and came back at the same time and he knew it wasn't Order business she was doing. What he really wanted to know was why she insisted that he stay with her instead of at Grimmauld Place. Whatever the reason, he was content that he didn't have to be alone most of the time, even though the majority of the times they spoke she was acting like she was his mother.

Besides, Tonks was much better company than Kreacher ever would be.

Like clockwork, Tonks walked through the door at nearly 3 p.m. Harry had already disposed of, and properly replaced, anything that would earn him another lecture from her. As usual she glanced around for any obvious signs of his, as she put it, self-destructive behavior. When she found nothing, she sat next to him on the couch and flicked her wand towards the fireplace so the fire grew larger.

"It's getting cold outside." She said.  
"I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm stuck in here all day." He said grudgingly. "And it's November, what do you expect?"  
"You're irritated enough as it is now, if you go out there it would only get worse." She tossed him The Daily Prophet. "It's almost been three weeks now. Trust me when I say you don't want to put yourself out there."

He apprehensively opened the paper to find himself yet again to be front page news. Without reading anything beyond the headline, he tossed the paper into the fire just as he had done with Ginny's letter. 

"Fine, so maybe I don't want to go out and deal with that. I'll just venture into the Muggle world instead." Harry was quite pleased with his idea.  
Tonks appeared to be in thought, but she finally responded. "Fine. We'll go tomorrow."  
"What! Why not now? Why can't I just go by myself?" Harry whined.   
"Because you were in my liquor cabinet again, that's why." The scent must still be on his breath. "How you managed to get through all of those spells I put on it is beyond me."  
"Well, they aren't that complex…"  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Without another word, Harry got up and went into the kitchen. He leaned over the counter and stared out the window. He soon heard Tonks behind him.

"I haven't been pushing you to tell me anything, but I think talking might help." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
"Last time I tried that, the person ended up leaving." He said dejectedly.  
"I think she was very vulnerable at that time and didn't know how to handle it."   
He sighed, his gaze still fixated on the empty street outside of the window. "Why would she want to deal with me anyway? She did what any sane person would have…got away from me before they ended up dead."  
"You make it sound like she didn't care at all."   
"She didn't. She made that quite clear."  
"You're wrong."  
Harry turned around abruptly. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"I just…think you're wrong."  
He eyed her suspiciously. "I received one too many 'you mean nothing to me' speeches from her and that last 'have a nice life' one really makes me think otherwise."  
"She was just confused and didn't know what else to do."  
"And when did you become such an expert on her?"  
"I'm not."  
"And you lecture me for lying!"  
"Harry, this is completely off topic. I really think you need to talk about everything that's been happening."  
"You know, maybe you're right, maybe I do need to talk about everything." Tonks' features looked hopeful. "But why would I talk to someone who lies to me about all of that?"

Before she could respond he shoved past her and retreated to the bedroom he was staying in. He quickly cast a complex locking charm on the door before he sprawled out on the bed, focusing on the barely noticeable crack forming in the ceiling. Of all people Tonks had to know a lot about, why did it have to be Brooklyn? He had had a hard enough time before he finally had gotten that girl out of his head, but now…

"Damnit Tonks!" His sudden realization led to his outburst and he quickly unlocked himself out of the room. He found Tonks sitting on the couch, staring into the fire. He stood in front of the fireplace, blocking the flames from her view. "You've been seeing her, haven't you!" Her stare was impassive. "Answer me!"  
"What I do on my own time is none of your concern." She responded.  
His mouth opened, dumbfounded. "None of my…none of my concern! You have _got_ to be joking…"  
"I am not joking."  
"Well it _is_ my concern! You knew damn well how I felt about her! I can't believe you've been keeping this from me!"  
"It was not my choice to do so."  
"Oh? Well, who's brilliant idea was it then?"  
"It was hers. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she insisted."

He was taken off guard for a moment. Not only did she probably know everything that was going on with him and supposedly cared, but she was refusing to let him know any of this.

"Where is she?" He demanded.   
"Harry, I don't think that-"  
"I said where is she!"  
Tonks remained silent.  
"Fine! I'll find her myself!" He began walking towards the front door.

Harry now had a new person to be angry with…and that person was Brooklyn Fletcher.


	14. Those Are My Hangers

**Chapter 14 - Those Are My Hangers**

Much to Harry's dislike, Tonks had prevented him from looking for Brooklyn like he had planned on. She promised him that she would take him to her the next day on the condition that he promised not to make a scene seeing as they would be out in public, to which he reluctantly agreed.

Brooklyn now worked in your everyday muggle restaurant as a waitress. Tonks, who happened to be in the area one day, walked into it and spotted her immediately. According to Tonks, Brooklyn took her lunch break when they have their daily meetings. She also claimed it was her who encouraged them to continue meeting.

He, of course, didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth.

Brooklyn, concerned about him? After walking out on him like that, highly unlikely. He was envisioning Tonks bringing him up and her cringing at the sound of his name.

Yeah, that was much more likely.

They had been to Gringott's to exchange for some muggle money and were also dressed appropriately. He immediately picked out a restaurant along the block and would have made a less than unobtrusive entrance if Tonks wasn't preemptively holding him back. Consequently, they both entered the restaurant, seemingly unnoticed, taking a seat at a booth near the front.

Harry stared glumly out to the street. He suddenly didn't want to see her. Yes, he still had the urge to yell at her, but the fact that the time had come to see her made him strangely nervous.

"That's why she doesn't want to see you." Tonks said. "She's just as nervous as you are."  
"I'm not nervous." He shot back quickly.  
"Whatever you say Harry."

A smile suddenly appeared on Tonks' face and his body stiffened in response.

"Hey Tonks! I'll be right back, I just have to tell Matt I'm going on break."

He had been slouching quite low in the seat and she obviously hasn't seen him yet.

"Don't do anything stupid, Harry. I'm warning you…" He felt the end of her wand poke at his knee under the table. "By the way, she usually sits across from me, so I suggest you move over and make room for her."  
"Alright, I'm ba-" Brooklyn's abrupt stop in her sentence meant that she must have finally seen him.

He turned his head upward to look at her. Her appearance reminded him much of how she looked when they first met and she had most likely lost all of the desperately needed weight she had gained while with him and then some. She appeared to be quite shaken and wasn't breaking eye contact. His devious side made a swift return. If he wasn't allowed to make a scene, he was certainly going to make this the most uncomfortable experience for her as he possibly could.

He put on the most disgustingly sweet smile he could muster. "Hey _Brook_, care to sit down?" He moved over so there was just enough room for her to sit without falling off the edge. "Come now, I insist."

She hesitantly sat next to him, mumbling thanks. She tried her best not to come into any physical contact with him, but he had made that next to impossible for her to accomplish. He was trying his hardest not to smirk at her discomfort, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Something wrong, Brook? You seem awfully edgy." He said suggestively.  
"Well, considering I am on the edge of the seat…" she said with a rude tone to it.  
"Oh how _inconsiderate_ of me!" He said dramatically, sliding over barely an inch. "Is that better?"  
She merely nodded her head and turned her attention toward Tonks. "I didn't know you were bringing someone today."  
Harry took the liberty of responding to this. "My curiosity got the best of me, seeing as how Tonks always seems to be busy this time of day, so I just decided to tag along. What a coincidence that we happen to stumble in here…wouldn't _you_ say Tonks?"

Tonks only glared at him and began to prod at his knee with her wand. Like that would stop him…

"So, since Tonks here has blantently _never_ known that you've been here before, I must ask…since when do you work here?" Harry asked with the utmost fake curiosity.  
"I-uh...started here about a month ago." Brooklyn said, now only halfway sitting on the seat.  
"Oh now look, you're about to fall out of the booth, let me help you."

He was actually mad at himself at the moment for not pushing her to the ground instead. She only slightly recoiled when he pulled her back onto the seat, making her sit unnervingly close to him. She was practically in his lap by now.

Tonks had apparently seen enough of his antics and sent a hex that made it feel like he had just received an electric shock. This did not please Harry.

"I'm only doing what you said Tonks." He said innocently. "You told me not to cause a scene. I thought I was acting quite appropriately."  
"Harry…" Tonks warned.  
"We should probably take this outside." Brooklyn suggested.  
"What a _fan-tas-tic_ idea!" He said.

He practically shoved Brooklyn out of the seat and they all made a hasty exit. It didn't take long for Harry to react.

"What the _hell_ is your problem!" He shouted at Brooklyn. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out!"  
"Harry, don't make me hex you in front of muggles." Tonks said sternly.  
"Oh shut it, Tonks!" He shouted, before turning back to his verbal assault on Brooklyn. "Why would you do this to me! You bloodly well knew that I didn't want you to leave and you damn well knew that I would want to see you again."  
"You know why I left and you knew I didn't want to see you again, Harry!" Brooklyn defended.  
"Don't even start with that bullshit! I know _exactly_ the topics of conversation you and Tonks partake in and let's just say that I happen to be one of the most talked about subject matter."  
"Only because you keep making a fool of yourself and it's all over The Daily Prophet!"  
"I am about to hex both you!" Tonks hissed lowly.  
"And you think that I'll actually believe that!" He said, completely ignoring Tonks' threat. "How dim do you think I am Brook!"  
"Fairly dim since you can't seem to recall that I _hate_ being called that." She shot back.  
"Don't you even think that I'll fall for that pathetic attempt to change the subject!"

As they continued to gain more and more stares from passing onlookers, a low thundering was arising in the distance. None of them were aware of the angry mass of newly converted werewolves and giants that were ordered to attack the muggle town.

------------------------------------------------------------

Everything had happened so fast. The past few minutes were considerably filled with blurred events that resulted with him now standing in the Prime Minister of England's office.

And to make matters even better, he was now shouting at the Prime Minister.

Well, he was actually shouting at a fair amount of people by now.

Tonks had apparated him and Brooklyn out of there as soon as she spotted the first werewolf run into town. She dropped them off at Grimmauld Place before disapparating, leaving them for merely thirty seconds before reappearing and apparating them to their present location.

He had been so consumed with his argument with Brooklyn he hadn't a clue as to why they were not so inconspicuously apparating in front of muggles.

The muggle town was currently being secluded, adorned with spells so muggles wouldn't go near, as well as memory altering charms for the muggles who were witnessing the attack that was trying to be put under control.

But now Harry was being forced into seclusion…

Heaven forbid something happen to Harry Potter before the big showdown with Voldemort could take place. It's not like they actually cared for his wellbeing, they just wanted him alive since he was the only one that could kill him.

As far as Harry was concerned, no one gave a damn about him, they just wanted to use him. And the fact that no one was stepping up and defending him just proved his theory. Everyone was egocentric and he was expected to think of the fate of the entire human race…he was never allowed to be selfish.

Alas, all of the arguing in the world could not prevent his looming exile.

The least they could do was send him some company. At least that's what he was trying to convince them of, having them send him to wherever they were hiding Lupin.

His attempts were in vain. To go to Lupin meant to compromise his safety. Whose security that would be at stake was never exactly specified. No matter, he was to be transported immediately to an unidentified place by muggles, whose memories would be obliterated upon their return.

Literally no one would know his location.

Harry thought this was an intrinsically awful idea. How was he suppose to know when it was 'okay' for him to return? He was reassured that he would be reached when his services were needed.

This was not good enough for him and he was not going to go quietly.

He immediately drew his wand on his muggle escorts, ready to hex them if they so much as got within ten feet of him.

He was taken off guard when two aurors grabbed him from behind, knocking his wand to the ground, leaving him to his futile struggles.

It was when he felt his hands being bound behind him that a voice of protest that was not his own was finally heard.

"Minister, don't you think this is a bit extreme?" Shacklebot said. "He's not a prisoner."  
"Will you cooperate?" The Minister asked him.  
Harry defiantly looked at him. "Being forced into the same situation my godfather was doesn't exactly rank too high on my list of things I want to do, so no."  
"You must understand, we are not doing this to punish you." McGonagall said.  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're doing this for the greater good, and as usual I get to suffer the consequences." He spat.

The auror who had bound his hands had led him over to the muggle escorts. He hung his head in complete defeat. He was about to be led to a place were he would slowly, but surely lose his mind from the lack of human contact like Sirius.

"I'll go with him." A barely audible voice said.

By the time he turned his head in the direction of the voice, everyone else had also. Standing with her arms crossed over her chest, and head hanging much like his had been, was Brooklyn. She glanced up momentarily to meet the puzzled stares. Her gaze met the floor once again before ever reaching his hopeful eyes.

"And just who exactly are you and why are you even here?" The Minister asked.  
"She is a friend of Harry's who was present when the attack took place." Tonks answered for her.  
"It would be risking his safety; the girl's family would want to know of her whereabouts and surely wouldn't agree to such a thing."  
"I have no family, sir." Brooklyn said flatly.  
Tonks merely nodded, validating Brooklyn's statement.  
"No. It's still too dangerous. He will go alone."  
"Let the girl go, what harm can it really do?" McGonagall spoke up. "It would only benefit Harry to have contact with another."

The matter of letting him have human contact apparently needed to be discussed and he found himself, as well as Brooklyn, waiting outside of the Prime Minister's office. Harry, whose hands were still bound behind his back, slid down the wall until he came to the ground. Brooklyn stood on the opposite side of the hallway, her eyes fixated on the ground.

They waited in the hallway in silence for nearly fifteen minutes until the door opened again. He had no time to even try to get up as he was pulled up by an auror and dragged into the office once again.

The Minister of Magic approached him. "Your friend will be allowed to accompany you on the condition that you fully cooperate. You will be taking on a new identity and you will make it your top priority to not stray from it. You will _not_ leave the location until sent for, nor will you have contact with anyone until then. Do you accept these terms?"  
"Fine." This by no means was a good situation to him, but it was better than being by himself.  
"His hands…" Shacklebot said.

A moment later his hands were free, leaving him to rub his wrists. Without being told, he made his way over to the two muggle escorts, Brooklyn lagging behind him. They were both shown to a car and entered the back seat on opposite sides. As they drove farther out of the city and into the country, Harry began to wonder if the awkward silence would desist. If she willingly offered to go with him, why would she be so determinately avoiding looking anywhere in his direction? If she was going to be like this the duration of their stay at wherever they were going, he rather her have not come at all.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"You have _got_ to be kidding me…" Brooklyn said upon entering the small house that was to be their residence for an unspecified amount of time.

She was not referring to the house's appearance; she was referring to the events that had taken place outside moments prior…

There really wasn't anything that could be done about it. While one of the muggles took out their luggage, the other one handed Harry an envelope. It was their lie they were about to live for the duration of their stay.

They were now a newly eloped couple, Ryan and Katelyn Studemont...rings came courtesy from Tonks herself.

The note said this was 'payback' for the way they acted at the restaurant.

He was about to show Brooklyn the letter so they could come up with a better lie, when he spotted two quickly approaching muggles. He turned the envelope upside-down, catching the rings in his hand. Sorting through the three rings, he shoved the largest one on his finger and then grabbed her hand, shoving the remaining two on hers. Just as he had told her to play along, their new neighbors came to introduce themselves...

"This isn't my ideal situation either…" He said irritably, throwing the contents of his suitcase at the nearest dresser. "And no, I'm not taking the couch."  
"Oh yes you are!" She shot back, trying to open the closet that appeared to be stuck.  
"No, I am not!" He slammed shut one of the dresser drawers, various articles of clothing sticking out. "Move!"

He shoved her out of the way and with a few strong pulls, the closet door finally opened.

"They couldn't provide you with better accommodations?" She said incredulously, empting the contents of her suitcase into the closet. "And to think they value your life above all others…"  
"They don't value my life; they're just using me to save their own." He spat, grabbing a hanger from the closet.  
"Hey, I need those!"  
"Not all of them!"  
"You have most of the dresser drawers, so I get the hangers!"  
"I really don't recall you being this irritating." He said, putting his jacket on the hanger in his hand and placing it on the rack.  
She shook his jacket off of the hanger, letting it fall to the floor before replacing it with her jacket. "You were always this irritating, I have quite a clear memory of it."  
"Then _why_ are you here!"  
"Because I felt bad, okay! Forgive me for having a conscience that gets me to make completely horrible decisions!"  
He picked up his jacket and put it on top of the dresser. "Well, thank you for making such a horrible decision."

He left the room, deciding to survey the rest of their nightmarish accommodation they had been provided.

He'd make sure to get the hangers when she wasn't looking.


	15. Have You Met the Neighbors' Kid?

**Chapter 15 - Have You Met the Neighbors' Kid?**

Well, the good news was that about half of the things that were broken in the house from hell could be fixed with a wave of the wand. The bad news was that the neighbors' kid was armed with a pair of high powered binoculars and was constantly 'bird watching', particularly in the mornings whenever Brooklyn got out of the shower. 

And considering that the house from hell lacked proper window valances, this was a bit of a problem.

The most damnable thing of all was that the kid was apparently on break, and despite the cold, snow and the migration of birds to warmer climates, the kid still insisted on exercising his high powered binoculars to the fullest extent.

It was on one weekday morning during their first week there, when Harry had gone out to get the non-existent mail, searching in hopes of a summons from the Order in the empty mail box, that the neighbors came outdoors, the mom waving excitedly in his direction. Harry squinted, wondering what the hell they could possibly be on about at nine in the morning.

After attempting to inconspicuously hex the mailbox, as practice for Tonks whenever she did get around to contacting them, he hurried back toward the front door.

Unfortunately his new shadow was following, and recently showered Brooklyn was clearly enjoying the show from the bedroom window.

Harry unexpectedly felt his back, shoulder and head get hit with something cold and wet. He turned around, resisting the urge to hex whatever little fiend that had decided to use him for target practice. Only instead of the gremlin he expected, there was a wiry kid, clearly in the awkward stages of puberty, gaping wide eyed at him like a drowned fish.

"Yes?" Harry asked, forcing the annoyance to a minimum.

The kid continued gaping, his gloved hand rising to rub his chin. As he did this, a freakishly excited look crossed his face.

"Woah..." The kid said in astonishment. "You've got your first stubbles in, eh? I'm waiting for mine any day now."

Not understanding a word, Harry found himself now gaping like the adolescent, half-drowned fish. Only since Harry was the only one of the two wet from a covert snowball attack, he fit the part much better…stubble and all.

Frustration finally got the best of him. "Can I help you?"  
The kid nodded. "Yeah, have you tried shaving yet? Or is that your first growth?"  
His confused look was met by one of awed understanding.  
"Ah..." Said the snowball throwing assailant. "You don't even know yet do you!" The kid strode forth, reaching out his hand. "My name's Damion, and congrats on your first stubble of beard growth."

And this was how Harry found himself shaking the gloved fiend's hand exuberantly, dodging the kid's attempt to pull on his stubble. Then Brooklyn opened the door, still clad in her bathrobe.

The kid let out a low whistle. "Wow...is that your mum?"

Brooklyn, out of ear shot, was sending him a very odd look indeed, and Harry found himself shaking his head helplessly. After all, how do you explain to your former casual sex partner that you have been mistaken for an adolescent, while informing her that she has been aged an extra ten years by the same kid, without anyone winding up hexed?

As if the situation couldn't get any more awkward, his mother approached. Her beaming smile faded as she stood behind her son. 

She shook her head. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I saw you this morning and thought the new family had sent their child for the paper..." Now she was starting to sound completely depressed. "My son Damion here...he wanted to meet you. There are so few people his age here."

She was looking pleadingly over her son's head at him. He could hear Brooklyn, who was leaning against the door frame, laughing at him.

"I-uh…" He really had no idea where he was going with that when he began.  
"Oh I'm sorry." She held out her hand. "My name is Angelina."  
"I'm…" Oh damnit, what the hell was his name!  
"Ryan!" Brooklyn shouted from the door. "Did my, uh, letter come yet?"  
He shook his head at her while mouthing 'thank you'. "I'm Ryan and that's Katelyn." He hated how they got stuck with such generic names.  
"Are you two married?" She was eyeing up his hand, looking for the fake band that resided on it.  
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah."

The woman seriously needed to stop asking questions. He barely knew the basics of their new identities, let alone the intricate details.

"You look awfully young." She said.  
He hadn't the faintest idea of how old they were supposed be, so he pulled the first number that came to his head. "I'm 22." Yes, twenty-two was a nice palindrome. "M-my wife is also."

He looked pleadingly over to the bathrobe wearing Brooklyn, hoping that she would come up with something to get him out of this. The Demon kid was also looking in her direction, though he had been practically drooling over her since she came to the door.

"How long have you two been married?" Angelina asked with much interest.  
Right now, he was hoping for Voldemort to come bursting through the trees. "I-uh, well…" He decided to stick with his theme of twos. "Two weeks."  
"Oh dear, _very_ newlyweds," She said excitedly. "Wh-"  
"Ryan, aren't you cold without your jacket?" Brooklyn said from the doorway.  
"Don't worry, I'm make sure Damion will give you some privacy," She said with a wink. "It was nice to meet you!"

She led the Demon kid back in the direction of their house. His neck was still turned so he could see Brooklyn's form in the doorway. Harry rubbed his face with both of his hands. He was officially stressed out, and it was just barely after 9 a.m.

When he reached the smirking Brooklyn, he threw his arms around her and kissed her cheek close enough to her mouth to make it look like it was her lips.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for!" She demanded.  
"Two reasons. One: Keeping up appearances." He said, glancing over at Angelina, who was blatantly a sap for romance and had a huge smile plastered on her face from the display. "And two: reminding me what my name is and giving them the hint to leave."  
"That's three."  
"Right. I'm still stuck on the whole two theme."  
"Remember, any sort of physical contact within these doors is strictly prohibited."  
"We're not inside yet." He said suggestively.

She quickly remedied that problem by dragging him inside. Angelina, who had still been watching from her front yard, probably thought he was about to get laid. Instead, they spent the rest of the day sitting at the kitchen table working out the intricacies of their faux life.

---------------------------------------------------

Going to bed at night was something that was a drawn out fight that started the day they got there. It would always end in one of two ways…

They'd end up in bed together, each threatening to cause bodily harm if touched by the other, or one of them ended up locked in the temperamental closet for the night.

On one particular night during their second week there, Brooklyn had started yelling at him for removing her clothes from the hangers and replacing them with his own. After she threw his clothes around, he had pushed her into the closet and slammed the door behind her. She must have pounded on the door for hours before finally giving up and he made sure to let her know that he was sprawled out across the whole bed before going to sleep.

That following morning, Brooklyn attacked him with one of the plastic hangers when he finally managed to open the closet door.

He ended up spending the night in the closet after that.

But on the days they woke up with one of them clinging onto the other, there wasn't the predictable yelling, only a feeble apology that was accepted by the other. They were usually the most pleasant to each other in the mornings. It was when they were both fully awake that the pleasantries subsided and the bickering would begin.

Then it hit him…they sounded just like Ron and Hermione, bickering like an old married couple.

But just as quickly as that thought entered his head, he began to utilize his defensive walls. He rather not think about his dead friend, nor the very much alive one that now hated him. He did not want to break down again like he had at Hermione's funeral. Only Luna had seen how destroyed he was and he would like to keep it that way.

And just when he thought his defenses were about to deteriorate, there was Brooklyn, who always seemed to chime in at the correct time…

"Did you eat all of the pastries…_again_!"

Then he was forced to think about how he hated arguing with her. How he wished she would stop being so stubborn and just admit that there was something between them.

Thinking about her wasn't putting him through as much emotional turmoil as the other.

It was just exponentially more frustrating because he was forced to deal with it on a daily basis.

At least he was trying to deal with her, unlike all of his other issues. She was quite unresponsive. He had tried several tactics ranging from subtle hinting and casual flirting to being down right blunt about it.

He had been hexed on the few occasions he had been a little too blunt.

Then there was the matter of explaining to the extremely nosy neighbors why they never left the house…

Brooklyn had come up with the idea that they ran their own business from home primarily through the internet. There was that and they also had inherited a nice sum of money from a deceased relative. It was decided that it was his grandfather who left them the money, since they both were supposed to hate their parents because they opposed their relationship…hence why they eloped.

He really wished they would have left him somewhere where they wouldn't have neighbors…not that they had many to begin with, but having to remember all of the details of their new lives was proving to be difficult.

Harry would also have his daily brooding sessions. Oh how Brooklyn hated these. They usually ended up screaming at each other over who was going through the worst hardships. He always won…not like that was a good thing. She almost had him beat when it came to who had a worse childhood though. His winning edge was the fact that he had been locked in a cupboard for most of his youth.

It was during one of these daily screaming matches that the doorbell rang.

Harry almost tore the front door off of its hinges when he opened it. There stood the Demon kid. They were purposefully trying to avoid him more than anyone else in their small neighborhood.

"Hiya Ryan." The Demon said. He was already looking past him, trying to get a glimpse of Brooklyn. The schoolboy crush he had on her was really quite irritating.  
"Hi." He said, hoping that the tone of his voice would make it obvious he didn't want to talk.  
"I heard some shouting. Is everything alright?"  
Oh for the love of Merlin… "Everything's fine."  
"You and Katelyn argue an awful lot." The eavesdropping adolescent said. "Don't you love each other?"  
It took everything he had to not pull his wand out on the kid. "Of course we do, not that it's any of your business anyway."  
"Katelyn!" The kid's raging hormones were evident. Brooklyn was probably wishing for a sweatshirt in exchange for the form-fitting camisole she had on.  
"We're busy Damion." He said, knowing the kid probably wouldn't take the hint.  
"Can I come in?" The annoying little prat said hopefully. "No one is home at my house right now."

The string of obscenities he wanted to yell somehow managed to not leave his mouth as he let the kid in. He sat himself down on the couch and immediately took to staring at Brooklyn, who was obviously uncomfortable by his enamored state.

"So when are your parents going to be back?" Harry asked, hoping that the answer would be something along the lines of 'very soon'.  
"Well, my dad won't be home until this evening and my mum went grocery shopping."  
"And how long does that usually take?" Brooklyn asked.  
"An hour or so." He responded excitedly.

Harry actually left the room so he could go bang his head against a wall. He could've sworn he heard Brooklyn groan when he exited.

"Why does Ryan yell at you?" The meddlesome adolescent asked. "You're way too pretty to be getting yelled at."

That little son of a bitch was hitting on his fake wife, in his hideout shack, while he was only a room away. He leaned his head around the corner. Brooklyn looked like she was stuck between wanting to hex the kid and being at a total loss for words.

"He's always yelling at you. I saw him throw in the closet a few times too. I don't think he loves you very much if he does that." The audacious spying kid continued on. "Why do you love him when he does things like that?"  
"I-uh…" Brooklyn looked like she had just gotten hit in the head with a bludger.  
"You don't love him?" The arrogant adolescent asked with _way_ too much hope present in his voice.  
"Damion, our relationship is none of your business." Brooklyn said quite calmly.  
"It's a simple question."  
"Of course I love him!"  
"No need to shout. His behavior must be rubbing off on you."  
Brooklyn's hand was now in the pocket of her jeans. Harry could only assume she was gripping her wand.  
"Katelyn, sweetie?" Harry said from behind the corner. "Would you mind helping me in here for a moment with some work?"

Brooklyn wasted no time in ditching the Demon kid and practically sprinted to the hallway, nearly knocking him over when she collided with him. They went into their bedroom, closing the door behind them. She started pacing around, mumbling about the wicked little child sitting in their living room.

"It's bad enough he's probably already seen me coming out of the shower, completely undressed, but to have the little weasel blatantly hitting on me! Do something Harry!" She pleaded.  
"And just what exactly do you propose I do?" He asked, hoping she would provide an answer.  
"I don't know, act like a jealous husband or something!"  
"He's thirteen!"  
Brooklyn crossed her arms and scowled at him.   
"Alright, alright, I'll get rid of him somehow."

Harry went back out to the living room, not having a clue as to how he was going to get rid of the kid. He wasn't sitting where they had left him though. He was now wandering around unsupervised, appearing to be looking for something. Harry cleared his throat to make his presence known.

"Don't you have wedding pictures? Or any pictures at all?" The Demon asked.  
"You know we eloped, so there are no wedding pictures." Harry said flatly.

Why was this kid so overtly nosy? Harry was starting to think he was doing reconnaissance for his meddlesome mother, who probably went on to inform the rest of the people in the neighborhood. Harry was seriously contemplating using an Unforgivable on whoever decided to send them here. 

"Damion, you're going to have to go home now, we have some work we have to get done." Please let the kid leave, please…  
"I don't want you yelling at her again." His arms were crossed and he was glaring at him. The nerve of this kid…  
"He won't Damion, I can promise that."

Harry was taken off guard when Brooklyn wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against his shoulder. The kid's world looked like it was about to shatter at her display of affection towards him. Harry couldn't help but smile, maybe the kid would finally leave them alone now. They escorted him to the door and he began to walk across their front yard toward his own. He stopped suddenly and turned around to look at them.

"Oh I'll show that little brat who I'm supposed to be in love with." She sneered.

Without any warning she pulled him towards her, but stopped. Her eyes shifted in the direction of the adolescent horror and then back to him.

"Put on a good show, I want this kid to take the hint." She said lowly. 

He merely nodded. There would be no show coming from his end for he had been waiting to do this for quite some time. And as they kissed in the front doorway, she would have to be quite thick-headed to not realize what he was doing was genuine and not merely an act. 

He just hoped he wouldn't get hexed for it later.


	16. Two Angels, a Demon and a Parting Vow

**Chapter 16 - Two Angels, a Demon and a Parting Vow**

The situation quickly went from hopeful, to bad, to worse, coming to rest on catastrophic in less than five minutes.

As soon as they had broken apart, the expression on her face made it quite clear that she knew he wasn't acting. It strangely wasn't a look of anger, but an appearance of apprehension, bordering one of fearful. She looked in the direction of where the Demon kid had been standing and then dragged him inside, without saying a word, once seeing that he had left.

She quickly questioned his motives after slamming the door behind them. He saw no point in lying and responded truthfully.

Whoever said honesty is the best policy had clearly not met Brooklyn Fletcher. She punched him right in the eye for it.

She had barely spoken a word to him since and was hexing him anytime he tried to talk to her.

The way she was avoiding him was becoming unbearable. He actually looked forward to the few occasions they would get cornered by the neighbors, even the Demon kid, and they had to act like a happy couple. Though, these instances were becoming few and far between.

Just about at his limit of patience, he sat across the table from her, saying that they needed to talk. Brooklyn thought otherwise and swiped his invisibility cloak. Harry wasn't exactly in the mood to play hide and seek like a child, but he was determined to get her to talk.

He decided to save himself some time and summoned his cloak. It came flying at him from the extra room, which was more the size of a closet, which contained all of their belongings that were not clothes. Just as he placed his hand on the doorknob to fully open the door, her voice sounded. She was pleading with him to leave her alone, begging him not to come in.

And he really would have listened if she didn't sound like she was on the verge of crying. 

He opened the door the rest of the way and found her sitting up against his standing trunk. With what sounded like a whimper, she covered her face with her hands upon seeing him.

"You follow directions well." She said, her voice a bit shaky.  
"I know." He said, sitting himself down next to her. He was actually surprised she hadn't hexed him yet. "Will you please talk to me?"  
"And just what exactly are you looking for me to say?" She said, sounding impatient.  
"I don't know." He said, bringing his knees closer to his chest so he could wrap his arms around them. "I guess you can start with why you haven't spoken to me for the past five days."  
"We've spoken." She seemed to be quite interested in her nails suddenly.  
"Only because we had to keep up our newlywed façade, so that doesn't count."  
"It counts…"  
"Please don't be difficult." She remained silent, which must have been her way of not being difficult. He sighed. "You haven't spoken to me since-"  
"I know when I stopped speaking to you." She snapped irritably.  
"But why?"  
"Do you really enjoy being hexed that much?"  
"Not particularly, but I'll risk it."  
She groaned. "We've been over this…"  
"Blatantly I still don't get it, so please explain it again."  
"Do you actually think I enjoy this! Because let me assure you that it has done nothing but annoy and confuse me to no end! Ever since you came into my life, everything has gone from bad to worse! Why can't you just be like every other guy that's crossed my path, or person for that matter, and leave me alone!"

He stared at her for a minute, processing what she had just yelled at him. There had to be something he could do to convince her that her reasoning was completely irrational.

"Because I'm Harry Potter, and incase you haven't heard I'm a little different from most people."  
"You…are the…" She began to rage.  
"The only guy that's ever shown any sort of attention for you besides lust?" She was silent. "And that frightens you doesn't it?"  
She mumbled something completely inaudible, besides the words 'no different'.  
"I'm not trying to hurt you, that's the last thing I'd want to do."  
"Then leave me alone."  
"I don't see how that's going to solve anything." She looked at him hopelessly and then turned away. "Please don't shut me out."  
"It's the only thing I know how to do."

He decided to brace himself for another hex and reached for her hand. He was surprised when she didn't go for her wand and instead gripped back. She had just begun to speak in a serious, yet pained, tone when the doorbell rang. They both stared at each other, neither of them moving to get it. He was hoping for whoever it was to leave, and by the look on her face she was thinking along the same lines.

The persistence of the ringing was not subsiding. With a sigh, Brooklyn stood up and exited the room. Harry could only bang the back of his head against his trunk. He had finally gotten somewhere with her, only to have it completely interrupted. Knowing her, she would probably act like nothing had happened and the breakthrough moment would be lost.

"Harry…" Brooklyn said lowly after sticking her head back in the room. "We have…_problems_ in the living room."

He groaned. That could only mean one of two things. The Demon kid or overly nosy neighbors.

Unfortunately, it was a mixture of both, for in the living room stood the Demon kid and both of his parents. This was actually the first time either of them had seen the father, they had actually started to think that he was made up. In any case, his name was Angelo.

Angelo and Angelina. How similar, uniform, homogeneous. The list of adjectives could go on…

As if it wasn't bad enough to have them all standing in their living room, they had just invited them over for dinner. He immediately started rambling about their illusive business, Brooklyn only seconding the extent of their hectic, full schedule.

The two Angels, however, wouldn't hear any of it and they found themselves committed to an evening with disaster written all over it.

Just when Harry thought they were about to leave and he would be able to resume his conversation with Brooklyn, Angelina put in a request…

They watched the Angels walk out the front door, leaving them with the Demon for the afternoon.

Harry Potter, boy wonder, savior of the wizarding world, the list goes on…was babysitting. If he and Ron were still on speaking terms, he would surely take the mickey out of him.

---------------------------------------------------------

Harry was cherishing his 'break time'. He and Brooklyn decided that the best way to deal with their miserable situation was to entertain the Demon kid in shifts, switching when the other couldn't possibly deal with him any longer. Unfortunately for him, his breaks were shorter due to Brooklyn being unable to endure 'being undressed by the eyes of the devil's spawn'.

He groaned miserably. There was absolutely no way their conversation was ever going to take place now. She had started saying that after her time at Hogwarts she had done one too many things that she was not proud of, and near the top of the list were things that involved him. Right before the doorbell rang, she said that her dad would have been so disappointed in her if he knew half of the things that she had done.

He could only venture a guess as to where she was going with that, but now he probably would never know.

A tapping on the window sounded, breaking his musings. Looking quite frantic to get inside was a snowy, white owl.

"Hedwig!" He shouted excitedly, tripping over his own feet in his attempt to hurry to the window. 

Hedwig flew in, almost knocking him to the floor for a second time. It looked as though she didn't know what to do with herself as she flew excitedly around him, darting from corner to corner of the room before finally coming to rest on his shoulder. He reached for the letter that was attached to her leg, but she wouldn't let him have it. She instead put her head in the way. Only after paying full attention to her did she finally let him have the letter. 

_Harry-_

Well, I finally remembered what it was about. You were right, I was just so angry at the time I didn't want to see it. I owe both you and Brooklyn an apology and it needs to be done in person, but the Ministry has seemed to have 'misplaced' the details to your location. I just can't believe you actually went along with the idea, it sounds completely mental.

I found out that Ginny wrote you that letter about a Horcrux location. I say it's about time we resume our search. The faster we get rid of these things, the better. I say we meet at Grimmauld Place on Christmas Eve. That should give Hedwig enough time to find you. I had to steal her you know. They had her locked away in the Ministry, in the Minister of Magic's office no less. Let's just say her rescue was made possible by Fred and George. She wouldn't come out of the cage when we got to The Burrow though…that is until I said we were going to find you, then she almost knocked me over.

I hope you are doing okay, seeing as the last time I saw you was at the memorial service. I guess that's when I started to put things back into perspective. Seeing you that way made me feel like a complete git for treating you the way I have. Wherever they have happen to hide you, I'm glad that Brooklyn is there with you…she seems to be the only one able to get through to you these days. You know I wish I could, but now I'm just happy someone can.

Until then,  
Ron

Christmas Eve. Guess it's as good as any time to go Horcrux hunting…

He decided that Hedwig deserved to be spoiled with some extravagant treats after being held captive at the Ministry for so long. Hedwig seemed to think the same and flew out the bedroom door before he even had a chance to exit the room himself.

This was not going to be good…

Sure enough, Brooklyn's ecstatic exclamation of the owl's name was followed by a fairly high-pitched shriek from the Demon. By the time he got to the living room, the Demon kid was crouched in a corner while Brooklyn was beaming about Hedwig's arrival.

"Please tell me she came bearing good news." She said so only he could hear.  
"Well…" Her smile immediately began to fall by the tone of his voice. "Ron stole her and sent a letter."  
"About…"  
"Aren't you guys going to do something about this bird flying around!" The Demon shouted.  
"Now is probably not the best time to discuss it." Harry said, completely ignoring the terrified kid in the corner.  
"Don't tell me that thing's a pet!" The Demon said in response to Hedwig landing on Harry's shoulder.  
"She's an owl and I wouldn't insult her." Harry said nonchalantly.  
"You have a bloody owl as a pet!"

Hedwig apparently didn't like being called a 'bloody owl' and began to fly around the Demon kid, swooping down and batting him with her wings. It was simply hilarious.

Now normally Hedwig would stop after a few rounds, but the kid kept shouting insults at her and the poor snowy owl had to be stunned. The kid looked terrified.

"I didn't kill her! I swear!" The Demon pleaded.  
"She's uh, just playing dead." Brooklyn said as Harry went to go retrieve his stunned owl.  
"You taught her to play dead!" The kid sounded impressed.  
"Yeah…something like that." Harry said, motioning to Brooklyn to follow him so she could lift the spell she had hit Hedwig with.

Harry set his poor, stunned owl onto the bed. He would've let Hedwig continue to torment the kid.

"So what did Ron say?" Brooklyn asked.   
"He apologized for being a git and wants to start the search again."  
"When?"  
"He wants me to meet him on Christmas Eve."  
"Oh…" She un-stunned Hedwig, who went and perched herself on the headboard of the bed, not looking too pleased.   
"Whoa!"

That was the exclamation of the Demon kid. Brooklyn made a pathetic attempt to hide her wand behind her back, while Harry just stood there stuck somewhere between horrified that a muggle had just seen magic and irritated that the kid had followed them.

"What did you do! That was awesome! Do that again!" The words came so fast out of his mouth they were almost incomprehensible.  
"W-what are you talking about?" Brooklyn was still pathetically trying to cover up the mishap, while Harry continued to stare, at a loss of what to do.  
"I can just use a memory charm on him." Brooklyn said to the still shocked Harry.  
He shook himself out of his state. "Yeah. Memory charm. Good." He looked in the Demon kid's direction. "Where did he go!"  
"Come on, he couldn't have gone far. Whoever finds him first Obliviates him."

Both now armed with their wands, they started searching their humble abode. The kid couldn't have gone outside since they hadn't heard the door, so there weren't many hiding options. They turned as the door to the hallway closet opened, both ready to hit him with the spell as soon as they saw him.

"Gotcha!" The freak was now pointing something in their direction and a noise that sounded like a camera going off was heard.  
"What the hell was that!" Harry said, completely confused.  
"Oh no, that's one of those muggle phones that takes pictures." Brooklyn groaned.   
"Well, get rid of the picture, I'll take care of the memory."  
"And just exactly how good are you at performing memory charms?"  
"I-uh, well…how hard can they be?"  
"I'll do it, you'll leave the kid clueless. Take care of the picture."  
"You know I don't have a clue how to do that!" Then something occurred to him. "You don't know either, do you!" She bit her lip. "Well this is just brilliant…"  
"So, what else can you guys do with those sticks?" The Demon kid asked.

----------------------------------------------------------

Harry found himself being blackmailed by a thirteen year-old. He and Brooklyn had spent the remainder of the afternoon entertaining the Demon kid with cheap, theatrical, magic tricks. If they did not comply with the kid's requests, the pictures he had taken of them would be shown.

The kid didn't really comprehend how badly they could hurt him. The only reason either of them didn't hex him into oblivion is because his parents would probably notice his newly traumatized, disheveled state.

Brooklyn was the first one to spot the two very cruel Angels walking towards the front door.

She glared at the Demon, who smiled dreamily back at her. "Not a word to your parents, Damion."  
"I told you I wouldn't!" The kid whined. "You just have to be extra nice to me." Brooklyn visibly shuddered at this. "And you have to extra nice too, Ryan…especially to Katelyn."

Little did the Demon know that his threat should have been the opposite way around, but there was no point in arguing semantics since the doorbell rang.

Clearing basking in some form of afterglow were his parents…sure, go off and leave the newlyweds with the burden of a child, they don't mind at all. In fact, his parents seemed to think that watching their adolescent horror would encourage them to have a child of their own.

Brooklyn had stated on numerous occasions that the Demon kid had ruined any future plans of children she might have had. As for Harry, at the rate he was going he wasn't expecting to make it much past the New Year, let alone live long enough to even contemplate having a child one day.

And as quickly as they found their house being invaded, they found themselves being led across the yards to another, much more unapproachable, house.

"I hope you like Haggis!" Angelina said in a sing-song voice from the kitchen.

Harry groaned inwardly. If there was one thing that didn't sound appetizing, it was Haggis and by the look on Brooklyn's face, he was quite certain that she felt the same way. To make matters even worse, there was going to be no alcohol provided. Something about the Angels not wanting to drink in front of the Demon. Upon learning this, Harry and Brooklyn both looked at each other with an expression that clearly stated that there was no way either of them would make it out with their sanity.

"I really don't fancy eating something made out of the lungs, heart and liver of a bloody sheep." Brooklyn muttered to him lowly.

Harry was about to be sick. He had heard Haggis was not especially pleasant, but he didn't know it was _that_ unpleasant.

"And stewed tomatoes on the side!" Angelo added happily while setting the table. "A little spin on Scottish tradition."  
"Know any spells to numb taste buds?" Harry asked Brooklyn miserably.  
She appeared to be deep in thought before burying her face in her hands and shaking her head no.

The putrid smell of the Haggis only got worse when it reached the dining room table. Harry glanced at Brooklyn. She was staring at the massive chunk of meat in the center of the table, looking every bit the part of the pre-cliff-jumping, suicidal individual.

Then came the gargantuan bowl of stewed tomatoes. It looked like a bowl that would be filled with punch at a party, except for that fact that the contents looked like whatever the punch was spiked with had made it curdle and rot. Harry threw up in his mouth a little from the sight.

This was going to be sheer torture.

Angelina did the honors of filling everyone's plates and bowls with what was supposedly food. Unfortunately, she gave Harry the same portion size as Angelo, which was far larger than the non-existent portion he desired.

Not exactly sure how to go about eating what was in front of him, he started out by shifting the food with his fork. He soon noticed that he should probably use the knife to cut the now not so mystery meat into pieces. Very small pieces…very, very slowly.

Brooklyn, after doing the same, put a small piece in her mouth, took a swig of water and swallowed it whole. Harry followed suit, completely ignoring his bowl which contents made him physically ill. She was braver than him and went for the soup after being eyed by Angelo for not touching it yet. He heard her gag while the spoon was still in her mouth. There was no way he was touching the stuff now.

Surely Harry was imaging things, for Brooklyn had grabbed his leg to get his attention and then pointed down to her leg. There was the Demon kid's foot, jabbing into her own. Clearly this was the kid's first attempt at playing footsie with a female. Harry grabbed the underside of her chair and pulled it closer to his own so the Demon couldn't reach her.

Angelina sighed with contentment. Obviously she had taken his action against the Demon as some display of affection. Then the agonizing conversations began…

"It's so refreshing to have a nice, young couple around here." Angelina said happily. "Isn't it, dear?"  
"Very much so." Angelo said. "Everyone else here is retired and about to die."  
"They are not about to die! That's terrible to say!" She protested to her husband.  
"Have you seen old man Turner lately?"  
"Well, okay you have a point." Angelina admitted. "So tell me, how did you two meet?"

Harry almost laughed at the question, for the made-up version was a lame rendition of high school sweethearts. Brooklyn, however, seemed to have a lapse in brain functioning…

"At a wedding." Her sharp intake of breath following her statement could only mean that she knew she just completely messed up.   
Angelina practically squealed with joy, which elicited an eye roll from Angelo. "How old were you?" She asked excitedly.  
"Nineteen. A mutual friend introduced us." Harry said, not wanting to risk Brooklyn having anymore mishaps.

The Demon looked thoroughly bored with the conversation and was stabbing his meat with his fork, occasionally sending death glares in Harry's direction, most certainly for moving Brooklyn away from his roaming feet.

Angelina decided that Harry needed the 'you shouldn't wear glasses' lecture and was on the verge of begging to see him without them. Angelo told him to just concede otherwise she'd keep at it. The glasses immediately came off. He couldn't see what she was doing, but she kept fawning over how 'handsome' he looked without them and telling Brooklyn what a 'catch' he was.

"Ryan, you haven't touched the stewed tomatoes!" Angelo intervened, allowing Harry to put his glasses back on.

The urge to be sick was instantaneous as he got a clear image of the bowl in front of him. He looked to Brooklyn, who gave him a grim look. He picked up the spoon and failed to keep his hand steady as he dipped in into the bowl of curdling stew. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on as the spoon full of grotesque food approached his mouth. 

His only hope now was for some phenomenological event to occur.

And an event he got…

Apparently they had a young border collie that had been locked away in a room while they were there. The dog had broken out and was now running in circles around the dining room table. While everyone was temporarily distracted, Harry took the opportunity to dump the contents of his bowl back into the larger one.

Unfortunately, seeing the movement of the stewed tomatoes sloshing against each other wasn't pleasing to neither his visual field, nor stomach.

And that's how the dinner from hell ended…

The two Angels chasing after a dog, the Demon attempting to move his chair closer to Brooklyn, who kept moving closer to Harry, who ran to the nearest trash bin to be sick in.

They tried to make a hasty exit, but Brooklyn barely made it out of the front door before the so-called food that was residing in her stomach ended up in the front yard.

Something told him that they wouldn't be invited over for dinner again anytime soon.

---------------------------------------------------------

After meticulously brushing their teeth, no argument was made as they each collapsed onto the bed, thoroughly exhausted from all of the mishaps of the day. Not wanting to move from his new found position to change, he threw his shirt and jeans to the floor and only hoped he wouldn't be banished to the closet for it. She must have been too tired to argue, for after she had changed she said nothing and turned on her side with her back facing him.

He sighed. Tomorrow he would be going to meet Ron to resume the search for the Horcruxes and he wasn't quite sure what would be worse…another agonizing attempt at trying to destroy one or having to be back in the graveyard that he tried so hard to forget.

Regardless, he needed a decent night's sleep for whatever was to come and he was far too comfortable at the moment to deprive himself of it. 

"Harry?" He was on the verge of falling asleep and decided to not respond.  
She called him again and he could barely hear her that time.

The space that was between them was diminished as she rolled over and wrapped her arm around him tightly. He could feel the skin of her cheek touching his as her head was now buried in chest. He draped his arm around her and placed a kiss on top of her head. And as she held him tighter in response, he let his conscious slip away, knowing that this could possibly be the last night he ever spent with her.

He had woken up with Brooklyn still attached to him and somehow managed to get up without waking her. After showering he found her attempting to open the closet. When it finally opened, she was sent to the ground with the surprise of the force. He helped her up and she thanked him. Those were the only words they had spoken and a profound silence was in the air as he readied himself for his departure.

He went into the bedroom to say goodbye to Hedwig. She was perched on the headboard on the side he usually slept on.

He sat on the bed and stroked the feathers behind her ears. "Hedwig, if something is to happen to me I want you to stay with Brooklyn...don't give me that look Hedwig she'd take excellent care of you. In fact, she'd probably make sure you ate before she ever did. You'll probably out live us both at this rate."

Hedwig made the short flight to his shoulder, nuzzling her head in his neck and nipping at his ear.

"Hopefully it won't come to that." He said to his affectionate owl. "I could always send you to Ron if you really don't want to stay with Brooklyn."

She looked at him reproachfully. He knew she'd see it his way. "I thought Pig might drive you mad."

After saying one last goodbye to his owl, he went to his top dresser drawer and pulled out a box and envelope. In the event that he was gone for longer than he anticipated, the gift he had gotten her would surely occupy her time. He set the box on top of the letter he had written that morning and left the room. In the event that he was not to return, he put everything on paper…just so she'd know.

It was just past noon when he finally broke the silence between them.

"Do you have something prepared to cover for my absence?" He asked, hoping that she did.  
She looked at him despondently. "Not yet…I'll think of something. Something to do with business matters perhaps. Which I guess this is technically business matters…except you're more likely to get yourself killed this way rather than with the internet..."  
"I'm not going to die." He didn't even believe himself when he said it.  
"Maybe you should wait…you know, until someone from The Order finally comes to get us." She had this sad, hopeful look in her eyes.  
"You know I can't wait."  
She sighed. "I know…"  
"I should get going. Ron's probably waiting for me."

He made his way toward the back door after she had not responded. She, however, stepped in front of him before he reached the door, her body blocking the doorknob.

"I can come with you." She spoke quickly.  
"Not this time." He was firm in his response, hoping she wouldn't argue with him.

When he opened the back door, she grabbed onto his other arm. He turned and found her eyes filling with tears, her grip on his arm becoming tighter with each passing second.

"And as the world goes to hell, you expect me to just sit here and watch as a spectator!" She said as she let go of his arm, obviously trying to hold her voice steady.

He had a fleeting thought of Ginny, recalling how she had told him that he needed to stop being noble. It wasn't that he was being noble, he was being selfish. He wanted to have someone that he cared about to come back to. He didn't want to risk having this one factor that he could control taken away from him.

"Yes, you must!" He took hold of her shoulders, trying to emphasize his seriousness. "I can't bear to lose anyone else that I care about!"  
"I wo-"  
"Please Brooklyn!" He cut her off, his grasp tightening slightly. "I don't want you to be used by him as a pawn, because that's exactly what he'd do if you got caught and he found out what you mean to me! If you have _any_ sort of inclination of feelings towards me, you _will not_ follow me, you _will_ stay hidden here where you will be safe!"  
"Don't leave me here, Harry…" A deep-seeded fear of abandonment was evident in her voice.  
"I will come back for you."  
"But what if y-"  
"I _will_ come back for you…you have my word."

With that, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead. He turned quickly from her shaking form, knowing that he would second guess his decision if he looked into her eyes that were now sending tears down her face.

He did not know if that was enough to put her fears to rest, but it was enough for her to let him go. And as he walked deeper into the forest behind their house for an apparation spot, her figure faded from view.

He only hoped that he would be able to keep his promise.


	17. Misleading Information

**Chapter 17 - Misleading Information**

Harry figured he had to have walked at least a kilometer. There was still no apparition spot and he was growing increasingly impatient with each passing step he took. He was in the middle of a thick, snow covered forest with no end in sight. In a pathetic attempt to possibly gage his location, he looked up towards the sky. The complete deficit of leaves allowed the lingering winter solstice to blind his eyes, causing him to return his focus back to the ground where the accumulating ankle deep snow had consumed him feet. 

Whoever had drawn the anti-apparition zone obviously didn't want him to leave.

Forty-five minutes after his initial departure he was cold, lost and thoroughly frustrated. The snow was falling at a fast and steady pace, adding at least another inch to ground in the short time span. Being alone in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard was not exactly Harry's idea of a good start to an imminently terrible day.

The only way this could get worse was if some large animal decided to attack him.

That thought only succeeded in making him paranoid.

Turning back became the very inviting idea that he fought with every ounce of willpower he had. Even if he had decided to go back, his tracks had probably been covered with a fresh blanket of snow.

He stopped to lean against a tree, hoping that directional instinct would find him.

That's when he noticed how unnervingly quiet it was.

With no sense of direction, he began walking again. The creaking sound of undisturbed snow under his feet drowned out the daunting silence surrounding him. It wasn't enough to quell the growing anxiety within him. He needed to get out of there for his sanity's sake.

He quickened his pace to a brisk walk, trying to apparate every minute or so. Even if he found an apparition spot, he would have no idea how to get back upon his return…if there would be one. He really wished he had just followed the dirt road in front of the temporary house.

Another fifteen minutes passed and he found himself sitting on a large rock, feeling quite hopeless about the situation. To cover the agonizing silence he threw rocks at the trees with his wand. Needless to say that felt quite counterproductive and he ceased after a few rounds.

With a sigh, he forced himself to stand again and continue on. He turned around after a few steps and surveyed his surroundings. Everything looked as it had since he had left, with the exception of the partially snow-covered rock he had been sitting on. With the image now burned into his head, he closed his eyes and pictured Grimmauld Place.

The unpleasant feeling of being suffocated was almost immediate and definitely unexpected. Just as he thought he would pass out due to the lack of oxygen, he found himself in the living room he had just pictured. He fell to the floor due to his lack of balance, which provoked a sudden movement from the couch facing the fireplace. He looked up to find a familiar red-head looking at him from over the couch.

"What the bloody hell took you so long!" Ron said.  
"Nice to see you too," Harry said as he stood up, brushing the remaining snow off of him.  
"I told you nine, that was four hours ago!"  
"No you didn't. You just told me the day in the letter."  
Ron's ears reddened. "Well, I was in a bit of a rush writing it. Hedwig wouldn't stop biting me."  
Harry smiled as images of his snowy white owl attacking the Demon kid filled his mind.  
"Listen Harry, about before, the last few months…" Ron trailed off, his gaze focused on the floor.  
"I know…" Harry didn't want to dwell on that subject and went and sat next to him on the couch. "So, how have you been?"  
Ron sighed. "I've definitely been better." Harry agreed. "So, where have they been hiding you?"  
"I'm not even quite sure of the exact location. I just know it's the middle of nowhere in Scotland and that I probably walked about two kilometers before I could finally apparate." His voice was shaky due to his chilled state.  
Ron didn't say anything and was staring at Harry's hand with a look of confusion.  
"Y-you…got married!" Ron finally got out, astonished. "I knew you liked the girl, but I didn't think you were actually in love with her…"  
Harry started to laugh. He was so used to wearing the fake wedding band that he had forgotten he even had it on. "It's part of the new identity. With the people around there it's just easier to not take it off since they tend to show up completely unannounced."

He neglected to address the other part of Ron's statement, which he didn't seem to notice. Truth be known he wasn't even sure what it was, but he had attempted to figure it out on paper…which she had probably read by now. He started to second guess his decision in some of the words he had chosen to use, berating himself internally for the certain incomprehensible thoughts he had rushed to write. Ron handed him a blanket and made the fire larger.

"Well, it's probably better than what's been happening around here." Harry's expression turned grim and prompted Ron to continue. "It was probably for the best that you disappeared for awhile. At least for the first week that is..."  
"How many?" Harry asked flatly. Ron looked at him questioningly. "How many have died?"  
"Wizards or muggles?"  
Harry groaned at the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Ron began the account of what had gone on since his disappearance over a month ago. The wizarding world went into a frenzy, speculating on why their only hope of getting rid of Voldemort had suddenly run off. A conspiracy theory was formulated at one point, stating that he was working with Voldemort this whole time. While some had called him a coward for fleeing, others feared the worst and thought him to be dead. The most recent headlines had been of his possible suicide or murder.

It turns out that Voldemort was not pleased to learn about his vanishing act and was quite eager to find out where he had run off to. Death Eaters had been sent to possible locations, torturing whoever happened to reside there for information. When these escapades proved uninformative, attacks were then launched in an attempt to lure him out.

And they would have if he had any idea they existed.

Although no muggles had been targeted during these attacks, by-standing ones had been killed. Nine to be exact, along with seven wizards…and it would've been more if the Order hadn't have shown up, which Ron had been inducted into on a preliminary basis. After this is when Hedwig had been sent with the letter for him. Fred and George had decided to test out a new product on her that rendered her invisible after eating it, though it was not known how long it lasted since she had shown up quite visible to Harry.

An assault on the Weasley family had taken place the week prior. This resulted in a two day stay at St. Mungo's for Fred to repair some broken bones and a four day stay for Ginny due to the entrail-expelling curse being cast on her. Ron then began to speak of Tonks. Apparently Lupin had just gone missing and she was worried sick, not to mention everyone in the Order. They had been so busy covering up Harry's tracks that Lupin's safety had become somewhat neglected.

Harry's stomach dropped again, the guilt he seemed to have forgotten about started to rise. He couldn't bear to listen anymore and stopped Ron from continuing.

Ron made a subject change. "I was expecting Brooklyn to come too."  
Harry sighed. "I wouldn't let her."  
"I bet that went over well."  
"I could've gone much worse."  
"What'd you say to convince her?"  
Harry looked to the side, hesitating before responding. "I promised I'd come back for her."

There was deafening silence for a few minutes and he felt like he was in the forest again. It only reiterated the high likelihood that something would go horribly wrong.

"You will, mate. You will." Ron sounded as though he had just condemned himself to a death sentence. When Harry finally turned to face him, it looked like he had too.  
"I don't want you sacr-"  
"So, do you have any idea where Ginny might have gotten this lead from?" Ron not so obviously cut him off.  
"Haven't the faintest idea…you?"  
Ron shook his head. "She won't break. I've lost count of how many times I've asked her."  
"And you actually thought she would tell you if you just asked?" Harry asked skeptically.  
"It was worth a shot." He shrugged. "Do you actually think one will be there?"  
"Honestly, that was one place I wasn't expecting one to be, but maybe that was just me never wanting to go back there…"  
"We can always look someplace else, you don't have to go back there."

The offer was very tempting. More tempting than Harry imagined it to be. The last thing he wanted was Cedric Diggory haunting his dreams again, asking him why he hadn't just taken the cup alone like he had told him to….

"Harry?"  
He broke from his aggrieved musings. "This is last time. Never again after this." 

The finality in his voice earned nod from his friend with no further questions regarding that matter.

It was more than obvious that neither of them were looking forward to departing. The fact that they struck up an hour long catch-up conversation was a testament to this. Ron found his faux life highly amusing and made sure to taunt him about it properly, especially about the recent babysitting and dinner disaster. It was after a good, much needed laugh that they both made eye contact, the serious nature of what had to be done immediately returning.

"I guess I'll be holding onto your arm then…" Ron trailed off.  
Harry nodded and they both stood.  
"We're in this together, mate."  
"And if we're lucky, maybe we won't die." He heard Ron gulp. "Come on, let's go."

Harry closed his eyes after Ron grabbed onto his arm. He focused solely on the image of the Riddle grave. If he tried anyplace else he would only see Cedric's lifeless body or Death Eaters cheering on Voldemort as he tortured him.

The sudden suffocating feeling meant he was only moments away from stepping into his nightmares.

--------------------------------------------------------

Harry didn't open his eyes when he felt the ground reappear under his feet, knowing he was only prolonging the inevitable sight that was before him. Ron let go of him and could be heard taking a few steps, most likely observing their surroundings.

"Why are there ropes on the ground here?" Ron asked curiously.  
Harry kept his eyes closed and tried to keep himself from shaking as memories flashed through his mind, remembering how he could barely breathe as the ropes were tied tightly around his neck. "It's…I-I was tied up there. I guess no one bothered to pick them up."  
"We can leave…" Ron immediately offered.

When Harry finally opened his eyes, Ron was kneeling on the ground with the weathered ropes in his hand looking genuinely concerned. His eyes traveled upward until the words 'Tom Riddle' greeted them. He rubbed his lightning bolt scar as a dull ache was now present.

A thick haze covered the graveyard, making it difficult to see anything beyond a meter's distance. The grey sky made the mid-afternoon appear more like dusk. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, adding to the monochromatic scheme of things. Ron was now standing, shaking the snow and dirt off of his pant leg while Harry's attention was drawn to the barely visible area where Cedric's body had lain.

If only he had listened to him…

Ron put his hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly while calling his name.

Harry hung his head and sighed with knowing defeat. Even though he had escaped, Voldemort had won the small battle that night. His consolation prize had been being named the winner of a tournament he never even entered.

Rationality told him that it wasn't his fault and he had finally embraced that concept, but his unconscious mind would taunt him while he slept. It always would. Regardless, he couldn't change what had happened and he could only hope that one day his unconscious would come to this understanding.

"I hate this place." Harry stated, fairly emotionless.

No one but him would ever know how much of an understatement that actually was. Except maybe Brooklyn, who had actually gotten him to talk about it after one of his brooding sessions. She had said that ever since he learned he would have to be going back there, he had been thinking about it more often, not to mention incessantly talking in his sleep about it, and if he didn't talk about it before actually going it would only make the situation that much worse upon arrival.

It was the first time he had talked about the incident in that amount of detail with anyone since he had to relive it for the interview with Rita Skeeter that got published in The Quibbler during fifth year. It was actually the first time he had ever talked about it in a non-detached mode. She had somehow made it okay, made it tolerable to speak about, for no amount of time would be able to fully heal how deep this one ran.

But nothing would ever make it bearable to be standing there again. He now had a full understanding of what she must have felt like being back at the orphanage. Mankind would never thank him for returning here for them, he owed her that much for doing so for him. He would find a suitable way to show his gratitude if he made it back, for a mere thank you would not suffice.

Harry turned down Ron's offer to leave and they proceeded to search the graveyard for any sign of something out of the ordinary, anything that might look the slightest bit out of place. He purposefully avoided as much of the area where the incident had taken place, preferring not to have the flashes of pain-filled memories flood his mind as he touched, or so much as looked at, the provoking object. He could only try to focus on his scar, hoping that it would be an indicator as to whether or not he had come in contact with a part of Voldemort.

They were coming up with nothing.

"What about in there?" Ron said, pointing to the small church near the edge of the graveyard.  
"No, Weasley…" A voice said lazily. 

Harry's blood ran cold as he knew that voice all too well. Before he could turn around to attack Dumbledore's murderer, he felt the end of a wand digging into the back of his neck.

"Fancied another stroll in the graveyard, eh Potter?" Harry could sense the smirk residing on his school nemesis' face.

Harry said nothing. He glanced to his right and could see Ron standing there wide-eyed and motionless, as another wand was aimed at his back. 

"Drop your wands," Snape ordered.

Ron immediately complied and Harry wanted to smack him. He quickly formulated a plan. If he was fast enough, maybe he could deflect whatever curse Malfoy was about to send at him for not complying, temporarily distracting Snape so Ron could pick up his wand. That is if Ron seized the opportunity to do so…

"Are you deaf, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, pushing his wand a little harder into his neck. "Drop it."  
"Since when have I ever listened to you, Malfoy?"

He was quick as he ducked and sent a spell that took Malfoy out at the knees. Standing over him, waiting for him to respond, he glanced over at Ron. He was still standing there, only facing him and looking highly confused. It looked like Snape was giving him his wand back. 

Maybe he needed a new prescription for his glasses.

"I see you finally figured out the art of nonverbal," Snape said indifferently to Harry.

Maybe he even needed a hearing aid. 

"It seems your little girlfriend did not listen to me when I told her to relay the message _precisely_ as it was to you."

Yes, he definitely needed to get his hearing checked out as soon as possible.

"I _told_ you not to use the Weaselette!" Malfoy whined, still not moving from the ground as Harry was not daring to lower his wand. "Even _Longbottom_ wouldn't've messed this up."

Snape was glaring at Malfoy, while Ron was standing idly, gaping at the scene unfolding before him. By then, Harry was thoroughly convinced that he was waiting to wake up from a seriously bizarre dream.

"Potter, for the last time, put your wand down." Snape said impatiently, his wand residing at his side not aimed towards him or Ron.

Harry reluctantly lowered his wand. It came to rest at his side once seeing that neither of them had made any sudden attempts to attack them. He pinched his arm and then his cheek, coming to the realization that he was indeed awake. Needless to say, he was extremely confused by now. As he struggled to form a coherent sentence, Malfoy began to laugh at his futile attempts. Ron was still standing uselessly, gaping at the two adversaries who had suddenly decided to not attack them.

"S-so, you're _not_ going to attack us?" Harry asked stupidly, still trying to grasp the concept.  
"You're such an idiot, Potter." Malfoy said. "Don't you think we would've done so by now?"  
"Well, what else am I suppose to think!" Harry retorted. After all, he was making a valid point.  
"Much like you," Snape started. "Draco has been struggling in learning Occlumency and we needed something staged incase the Dark Lord starts searching for lies. We are not here to attack you."  
Harry was not about to start buying into this and was starting to feel quite angry. "Give me _one_ good reason I should believe anything you say. Or did you forget I was there when you killed Dumbledore, who for some reason unbeknownst to everyone trusted you."  
"Always the fool, aren't you?" Snape said coolly, only enraging Harry further. "If you actually tried thinking for once, putting the pieces together, things wouldn't have become so difficult."  
"Remember telling me that I didn't have the nerve or ability to use an Unforgivable?" Harry raised his wand, pointing it directly at Snape's chest. His voice was beyond menacing. "Care to test that theory?"  
Snape's features did not falter. "There is only one I believe you _may_ have the ability to use an Unforgivable against, and it is not me."

Something snapped inside of Harry and he wasn't sure why. At that moment he wanted to do nothing more than to show Snape just how much pain he can cause him, he wanted him to feel as much physical pain as he had felt emotional pain because of what he had done. And if he was lucky, Snape would end in up St. Mungo's by the time he was through.

He briefly turned his sinister gaze to Ron, who obviously did not like the direction this was going. Ron's mouth was moving, but he could not hear him, for he was deafened by his own rage. The Cruciatus Curse was fired. Snape dived out of the way just in time. The curse hit a nearby headstone, shattering it into small pieces, dust escaping into the air.

And to his surprise, neither Snape nor Malfoy were going to retaliate. They had even placed both of their wands into their Death Eater robes. Ron looked like he was about to be ill, surely due to the fact Harry had threatened to use that against him once.

"Are you quite finished?" Snape asked dully. "Or would you prefer to risk drawing attention some more?"  
"This better be good," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I will not miss next time."  
"Dumbledore knew about Draco's orders to kill him and my Unbreakable Vow with his mother. Natrually Dumbledore did not wish Draco to become a killer, nor wished me or Draco's family to die, so therefore when the time came I was to complete the task."  
"A lot of good that did…" Malfoy muttered.  
"The Dark Lord killed Draco's mother and had a dementor administer the kiss to his father. Needless to say, Draco isn't much for that side anymore."  
Harry glanced at Malfoy, who was glaring at the ground when he spoke. "I don't like you, Potter, that's never going to change. But I'll do whatever I can to help you kill him, seeing as I can't do it myself because of that prophecy."  
"What does any of this have to do with my sister?" Ron finally spoke.  
"Seeing as Potter here clearly doesn't trust either of us, we needed someone he did to relay a message." Malfoy said. "_Someone_ thought using his girlfriend was a good idea."  
Harry decided to not correct them in that matter, seeing as things couldn't be changed and he rather leave Brooklyn out of it.  
Snape glared a Malfoy again before speaking. "She obviously figured she knew your dreams better than yourself and gave you a very incorrect location. If she just relayed the message as it was, you would have been able to distinguish between your Department of Mysteries prophetic dreams and the, dare I say, nightmares of what happened here."  
"You mean to tell me that I never had to come back here?" Harry asked annoyed.  
"That is correct."

Harry felt numb. He had come back here, the place he hated the most, for nothing. To make matters worse, he now had to go back to his second most hated place, the Department of Mysteries. His only guess was that he needed to get into the room that Dumbledore had told him holds the power that Voldemort did not possess and he did. He glanced to his left, seeing the Riddle grave once again. If Ginny hadn't….

"Come on, Ron." Harry said irritably.  
"Where do you think you're going?" Snape said coolly.  
"Obviously we have to find a way to break into the Ministry now."  
"Weasley isn't going anywhere." Malfoy said. "You see, your girlfriend's letter was intercepted before it reached you and she didn't leave much to a Death Eater's imagination. And seeing as I want to be around to watch the Dark Lord fall, one of you has to come back with us."  
Ron's face paled considerably. "W-what?"  
"You heard me." Malfoy said. He then turned to Harry, "As for you…"  
Snape took over. "You're Dark Mark, Potter."  
Harry scowled at him, putting an arm across his chest. "What about it?"  
"Does it function as a normal one? Did you feel it seven days ago, right before the attack on the Weasley's?" Harry got a sickening feeling as he shook his head. "Then that must be changed."  
"Oh _hell_ no!" Harry started to instinctively back away. "No way! It's bad enough it's there, it doesn't need to actually work!"  
"It's the only way you will know when meetings and attacks are. The Dark Lord has gone to great lengths to make sure knowledge of this has become impenetrable."  
Harry looked to Ron, who nodded. "It's true. The Order hasn't been able to track anything for months."  
"There has to be another way!" Harry was panicking, his eyes were already pleading with Snape to spare him.  
"Potter…"  
"No! I won't do it! Not this!"  
"We'll do this the hard way then."

Unexpectedly Malfoy yelled _Stupefy!_, stunning Ron, while Snape had summoned Harry's wand. Both of them were now advancing on him. He backed up until he felt his back collide with something. He looked down and saw the weathered ropes at his feet. A nauseating sensation swept over him and his only protection was his arms shielding his chest. A feeble pleading to not damn his life any further escaped from his lips.

"Do you really want to be tied to this headstone again?" Snape asked, clearly losing patience.

Harry knew that both of them could easily see the fear in eyes and he wasn't even going to make an attempt to hide it. He was down two against one. He had had worse odds in the past, but he knew he didn't stand a chance, especially without his wand. 

He fought against Malfoy's grip on his wrists that were prying his arms away from his chest, holding them at his side. His jacket had been opened and he closed his eyes when he heard the tearing of his shirt fabric, feeling the cool winter air touching the small area of exposed skin. He was vaguely aware that his feet were being stood on.

"It's going to hurt." Malfoy stated, somehow managing to tighten the death grip he had on his wrists. Harry was certain all of the circulation had been cut off by then.

Harry barely opened his eyes. In the distance he could see Ron lying unconscious on the ground, close to where Cedric had been. At least he was only stunned. His attention was drawn to where a wand was now against the mark on his chest. Snape's eyes were focused, his mouth unmoving. Malfoy seemed to be searching for a signal. Harry could only wait.

And then it happened. A slight tingling sensation began and Harry immediately started to struggle, knowing that it was about to get much worse. Malfoy was now leaning his full weight onto one of his shoulders, while Snape used his free hand to put on his other. He might as well have been bound again. His only solace was that he knew it wouldn't be as painful as being tortured by Voldemort.

The pain came in waves. His sharp intakes of breath through gritted teeth at its peak were the only sounds he made. Halfway through he had finally stopped struggling, but this did nothing to ease the restraining. The burning sensation ended, the shirt repaired and he was released. He immediately zipped up his jacket and kept his eyes on the ground.

"What will happen to Ron?" He asked bitterly.  
"He will be a prisoner. I'll try to keep him as unscathed as possible, but I can only do so much without rousing suspicion." Snape said. "When the time comes, I'll clear a route for him to escape."  
"And when is that _time_ going to be?"  
"After you harness the power behind the door."  
Harry groaned miserably. "I can't just waltz in there expecting to kill him when there are still parts of his soul out there!"  
"Relax, Potter! We're working on the snake!" Malfoy said exasperated. "In fact, we were planning on enlisting Weasel to help with that."

Harry was hoping beyond hope that Dumbledore wasn't completely out of his mind for trusting Snape, for he was placing everything on the line for the little trust he had just given him. He sighed, taking one last look at his friend still lying unconscious. Just as he was going to apparate far, far away, he noticed that Snape and Malfoy had pulled the hood of their robes over their heads, a mask now in each of their hands. There were two vials in Snape's other hand.

Snape handed Harry one of the vials. "Drink this." Harry looked at him as though he had gone completely insane. "I will be taking you to the Weasley's Burrow and by no means are you to discuss what has happened here."  
"Still doesn't explain why I should drink this." Harry pointed out.  
"It will make you look and feel as though you were under brutal attack." Snape said, clearly becoming annoyed by his resistance. "The other is a sleeping potion that someone will have to give you. You won't want to be awake for long after taking the first one."  
"Sounds fabulous…"  
"Drink it." 

With an annoyed sigh, he emptied the contents of the vial in one gulp.

Malfoy had on the mask and had picked Ron up. Snape nodded at Malfoy and he started to walk towards the edge of the graveyard. Harry noticed a house in the distance on a hill, vaguely remembering it from years ago. He started to feel quite awful. He slowly started sinking to the ground feeling at though he just taken a beating. He looked up at Snape and his eyes were met by ones behind a mask. Trying to stand was now impossible and he remained kneeling, only to find himself falling over seconds later. It was then that Snape picked him up since he could only lye there limply, his body too sore to move.

"You have been to the Riddle house over there in your dreams, Potter." Snape said coarsely. "You will be there physically before this is through."

Harry couldn't reply. It felt like someone had been trying to choke him for the past hour. Again he felt the suffocating feeling of apparition upon him. He realized it was over when he felt his neck arched back at an unpleasant angle and his arms dangling in mid-air.

------------------------------------------------------------

He heard Mrs. Weasley answer the door with a gasp. "Harry!" She whispered. "S-severus!"  
"Give him this." Snape whispered. "I was never here."

Mrs. Weasley had him levitating in the air when he heard the disapparition crack. He heard the scurrying of feet come down the stairs, accompanied by the horrified gasps and utterances of his name. He didn't bother to try and observe his surroundings, for his eyes seemed to be stuck at the halfway point of rolling back into his head, leaving him with nothing but unstable, half-blocked images. The only thing he was really capable of doing right then was blinking and breathing.

Nobody seemed to comprehend that though as they kept bombarding him with questions, asking him if he was alright, where Ron was, what had happened, if he was even conscious and could hear them. All he wanted was the vial in Mrs. Weasley's hand that contained the sleeping potion. It was when Mr. Weasley asked her what she was holding did he finally end up in Ron's room about to have the potion administered.

Ginny took it upon herself to see that he received it. Through the overwhelming battered-feeling state he was in, he very distinctly remembered why he ended up like this. It could have all been so easily avoided if it hadn't been for her recklessness, her irresponsibility, her need to prove herself as a useful contributor to the group.

But now he had been back there, officially marked there and Ron had been taken prisoner there.

He didn't want her anywhere near him, but the potion had rendered him helpless to do anything about it. He couldn't stop her from picking up his wand, that Snape had placed back into his jacket, that had fallen to the floor. He couldn't stop her from taking off his glasses, shoes and jacket for him, sweeping her hand through his messy hair, tracing along the sides of his face…he couldn't even shudder as her hand wandered over the recently repaired shirt he wore, hoping beyond reason that they wouldn't wander anywhere else, hoping they wouldn't aid him in getting into his usual night attire…

She took his hand in hers and examined it. The ring he was so used to wearing was slipped off and placed next to his glasses and wand on the end table. She then sat him upright and emptied the contents of the vial into his mouth. With every ounce of energy, he swallowed the potion, waiting anxiously for the badly beaten feeling to leave, waiting for the black abyss to take him away from the girl trying so hard to take care of him, hoping he would be able to dream and see another.

She lowered him back onto the bed and he felt the first signs of drowsiness, knowing it wouldn't be long before he entered an altered state of mind.

And just as the covers had been brought up around him, just as he thought it was safe to fade away…

She had slipped in next to him, draping one of his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest, holding onto him as though her life depended on it.

There was no escaping her or the black abyss.


	18. A Step Toward Authenticity

**_A/N: WARNING! This chapter contains content of a very SAPPY nature that my beta advised me to incorporate. Ill-advised in my opinion, but alas the chapter is FULL of it. Take solace in the fact that it was worse for me to write than it will be for you to read._ **

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**Chapter 18 - A Step Toward Authenticity**

Harry woke up on the very edge of the bed, wondering why he was about to fall off. Brooklyn couldn't have been sprawled out since he couldn't feel her par usual and he was fairly certain there had been no argument between them the night prior. Not feeling quite right, he rolled onto his back, feeling the edge of fingers under his arm. He turned his head and was met with a blurred view of fiery red hair that was splayed halfway across the face of Ginny Weasley. 

Everything came rushing back.

He sat up immediately, checking to make sure she had not removed anything else from his body after the potion had kicked in. Everything was there as he remembered it. He noticed there was bruising around his wrists, but couldn't make it out clearly without his glasses.

She stirred.

His body tensed up and anger began to rise. The level of audacity she possessed to even think it would be alright to take advantage of his completely helpless state the way she had was sickening to him. 

"Harry, you're awake!" She said cheerily, sleep still prominent in her voice.  
He didn't move. He didn't want to look at her.  
She sat up and put one hand on his back, the other on his shoulder. "How are you feeling? You were in a right state last night."

His jaw was now clenched as he fought the urge to start screaming at her. The last thing he wanted was to draw the rest of the Weasley's into the room. The hand she had on his back was now moving upward toward his hair. He wouldn't be able to restrain himself for much longer.

"You can tell me anything, Harry." She whispered close to his ear.  
"Get – your hands – off of me." He said, his jaw remaining clenched.

She was doing so in a very slow manner. Too slow for him, so he did it himself forcibly. He still had yet to look at her and his eyes remained focused on the blurry chest of drawers in front of him.

"Here are your glasses…" She said somewhat apprehensively. He grabbed them and put them on.  
"Forgetting something else?" He said coldly, still looking at the now clear chest of drawers that had items of clothing sticking out from them.  
"Well, I put your jacket and shoes on the chair…"

He turned his head and looked passed her. The end table only had his wand on it. His ominous gaze immediately shot to her.

"Where is it?" He demanded.  
"I don't know wha-"  
"_Where_ is it?"   
"It's just a stupid ring, Harry."  
"I bet you wouldn't be saying that if the other half belonged to you." His eyes narrowed, not caring in the slightest that he was misleading her about it. "Now for the _last_ time, where is it!"  
"Is that why you ran off?" She whispered.

Obviously Ginny was uninformed about the Orders' involvement since she was not inducted. Ron had conveniently neglected to tell them about meeting him at Grimmauld Place to go searching for Horcruxes. Only Tonks knew anything about the new identity since she was the one who had created it. It didn't matter though, he didn't owe her any explanations. 

"You are testing my patience." His tone was clearly letting her know that he had none left.  
"It's despicable that you let everyone panic and suffer like this because you had to go off after some girl." She said disgusted.  
"Really? I thought that you getting in bed with me, knowing I wouldn't be able to protest, after taking that ring off of my finger was a good example." He said callously. "But you know what, I really don't give a damn what you think so believe whatever you want."

So what if it was really a fake, he still needed it for when he went back. He got up out of bed and started opening the drawers to the end table, moving onto the desk drawers when he couldn't find it. The fact that she was still sitting on the bed watching him was only adding to his mounting anger.

"Harry?" She said cautiously. When he didn't respond, she called to him again. "Will you please talk to me?" He glared at her in response and she seemed to think that meant she could continue. "What happened to us, Harry? We're so perfect for each other I just…I just don't understand."

He stared at her in complete and utter shock. He had shown up last night looking like he had just been beaten within an inch of his life, her brother was missing and most likely being tortured by now, and yet this is the thing she chose to talk to him about. He no longer knew this person, nor did he want to.

"I just wanted to get this out of the way," She added. "Before everyone else wakes up or you take off again."  
He continued to glare, but responded this time, albeit coldly. "I told you before Bill and Fleur's wedding, things changed. You need to move on."  
"I tried seeing other people, but I can't just turn off my emotions like you! I just can't forget what we had!" She was trying very hard to keep her voice low and her eyes were starting to water. "I loved you, Harry and I still do!"  
For some reason her confession did not surprise him, nor diffuse his anger towards her as he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.  
"Harry, please…" She was moving closer to him, her eyes pleading for something he could not and would not give. "Tell me you feel the same."  
"I don't." He said bluntly. "And I never did."  
"That's a lie, Harry! You know it is!" She protested.  
"I do not deny that it was leading toward that, but it changed after Dumbledore's funeral. So no, I am not lying." He said with finality.  
"And you love this other girl? Brook, was it?" She asked shakily.  
"Ginny, give me my ring." He demanded once again.

She slowly reached into her pocket and handed it to him. He felt somewhat calmer after putting it on, but continued to ignore her probing stare. If she asked him again, he had a foreboding feeling that she would catch him in the lie.

"You never answered me." She said.  
"I would think the answer was obvious." He responded matter-of-factly.  
"If it's taking you this long to say it, then you don't."  
He could see the hope filling her eyes as he remained silent, unsure of how to respond.  
"You don't have to remain married." She said way too boldly. "Everyone makes mistakes."

He groaned in frustration as he couldn't stand her persistence over the subject anymore. He cast a silencing charm on the room and turned to her. She actually had a smile starting to show on her face. It would surely be gone after he finished what he was about to say.

"Ginny, I'm only saying this once, so make sure it sinks in and _don't_ even think of interrupting me." He started, quite annoyed. "First off, I'm not married. It's just a ploy to fool all of the daft muggles that I'm surrounded by. I didn't ask for it, nor did she, but we have not strayed from the story since it was imposed upon us. Second, you're one to talk about making mistakes, because your relentless need to prove yourself – your little 'you need to go to the graveyard' deduction – ended up costing me nothing but sheer torture and your brother being captured since you can't follow simple instructions. And finally, just for your information, I may not be in love with her, but it's certainly leading toward it." 

There was no trace of a smile left on her face as grabbed his belongings and left the room.

He tripped right over George after exiting, who was holding an extendable ear in his hand and had probably heard the whole conversation. There was not even time for a choice expletive to escape his mouth, for George had already leaped up, snatched his elbow and dragged him down the crooked staircase.

"Harry...mum...now..." Was all George managed to mutter as he forcibly pulled him towards the kitchen. 

George shoved him into the kitchen, stumbling in with him. The swinging doors shut with a sound of finality as Harry found himself facing the back of Mrs. Weasley as she calmly prepared breakfast. His feet instantly began backing up, attempting to drive George out of the kitchen before they were spotted. It was a well known fact that the only thing he feared more than Voldemort was the red-headed woman's temper and he did not want to witness the epic proportions it would reach if she found out her youngest son had been taken captive on his watch. Especially since he had not done a thing to stop it…

It was too late though. George's incomprehensible ramblings had attracted her attention and her bloodshot eyes met his.

Wiping at her eyes, she turned away quickly. "Oh boys...you surprised me."  
Harry's heart sank. The closest thing he had to a mother had clearly been crying.  
"Harry dear...I...you were in such a right state last night and Ron..." An odd sound came from her direction. "I'm sorry boys it's just...Ron hasn't come back yet..."

Harry swallowed hard at the hopeful, probing stare she was giving him, trying to ignore the jabbing in his side that was George's elbow. His mind was racing frantically, trying to think of a way to lessen the harsh blow he was about to disclose without revealing what had actually happened. A few quick scenarios flash through his head, as well as their possible outcomes. None of them were turning out in his favor, nor helping in him in relaying the message.

"I-uh…" Harry trailed off.  
George finally jabbed him too hard in the side, eliciting a slight groan of pain. "Will you just tell her already!"  
"Tell me what?" Mrs. Weasley asked anxiously. "Is it about Ron? Do you know where he is?"  
"Y-yes…" Harry got out. "He's been…he was with me."  
"Where is he now!" She asked, starting to sound increasingly distressed.  
"W-we were attacked." He started to lie. "Death Eaters…they, they took him."  
"THEY WHAT?"

He sighed resignedly, forced to lie to the people he loved to protect two he hated from certain death. If possible, he hated Snape and Draco for turning out to be on the light side after all.

"They attacked us Mrs. Weasley. We flooed to one location, only to wind up in...in the g-graveyard again..."

Sudden comprehension dawned within the woman's bloodshot eyes, a devilish part of his mind egging him on to play up to the sympathy card.

"Surely you can't mean..." Mrs. Weasley began frightfully, but he shook her off.  
"I do..." He groaned. "Ron landed first. He called out a...a warning." His head hung, his messy hair falling to obscure his dishonest eyes. "It gave me the time I needed. Ron was already gone by the time I had a chance to fight back. I was outnumbered…I was hit fairly hard and don't really remember too much after it."

The Slytherin residing within him screamed victoriously as she stared at him in horror, a few tears trailing down her face as her natural temper was obviously losing its fight for precedence. He rubbed his face with his hand, which proved to be a very poor decision on his part. Mrs. Weasley's temper was quickly making a triumphant return.

"HARRY POTTER!" She roared. "What in the blazes is _that_!"  
On cue Fred walked in and leaned around him, scrutinizing its polished surface. "Looks like a wedding band actually..."  
"WHAT? You mean that while _my son_ was getting captured by Death Eaters you were off getting _married_!"  
Harry's jaw dropped in horror at the advancing red-head's rebounding fury, only for George to bolt around him, hands held calmingly to her.  
"Now, now mother, I'm sure he got married long before ickle Ronnie-kins was getting tortured..."  
_"TORTURED?"_  
George looked at her sympathetically. "Well he is with Death Eaters mum, I doubt it's pie and punch there, but he's pureblooded so they'll keep him alive. Don't worry we'll get him bac-"  
"KEEP HIM WHAT?"  
"Wait a minute, you got married? Hey! Why wasn't I invited?" George asked, dismissing his mother's obvious dislike of his last statement.  
"Not this again..." Harry muttered, banging the back of his head against the wall.  
"Not what again?" Fred asked, eyes suddenly widening with an epiphany. "The others already knew you were married?" The twin began gesturing wildly across the room at George. "Why does he get to know everything before I do?"

Harry looked between the three feuding family members in a numb state of shock. They appeared to be more upset by having not been invited to the non-existent reception than by Ron's capture. Something Brooklyn had once said shot brutally to the forefront of his mind…

_Sometimes people focus first on what's easiest for them to handle._

Harry eyed his wand, seriously contemplating Avada Kedavra-ing himself right then. "I have to go…"  
"GO?" Mrs. Weasley continued to yell. "It's Christmas! Where on earth do you plan on going!"  
"Back to my wife." He stated simply while putting on his jacket.  
"After everything we've done for you, you're just going to run off with some nobody and leave us behind like we don't even matter!"  
Harry stopped in his tracks and his eyes narrowed angrily. "Seeing as how you were always one of the most adamant in the Order regarding my inability to protect myself, I would have thought you knew already...but it's not like I was given a choice about leaving. She was just the only one brave enough to go with me, so don't you _ever_ speak poorly of her."

He turned to leave, ignoring the yelling, the petty insults, the pleading to not go away and disappear once more. With his jacket zipped, he left The Burrow and instinct took over. He ran. He needed to get away from the insanity that had taken place, he needed to get back to the only form of normalcy he had…and fast.

With The Burrow now a good distance away, he retrieved the image of the never-ending forest to mind and within seconds he was there.

He just hoped he could remember how to get back.

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The snow was deeper than he remembered as it was now at least three inches above his ankles. He immediately performed a waterproofing spell on his shoes in hopes of preventing a looming frostbite. The last thing he needed was to lose a few toes, or worse a whole foot. He walked passed the now completely snow covered rock, fairly certain he was going in the correct direction, hoping that he hadn't gotten himself turned around in the process of apparating.

Nature seemed to have a vendetta against him, for snow once again began falling from the grey skies above, trying to add to the already difficult to walk through indiscernible path, trying to slow his pace even more. Looking up towards the sky, a few snowflakes landed on his glasses, trying to obstruct his view. He smiled at nature's feeble attempts, for he refused to be delayed. Determination set in and he treaded forward.

Thirty minutes later directional instinct finally found him, telling him that he had gone the wrong way at the fallen tree around fifty yards back. He retraced his steps as fast as the impeding snow would allow, veering right instead of the left he had. He ignored the stabbing pain of his legs as they were nearing numbness, the harshness of the stinging windburn that his scarf was doing little to prevent, the total numbness in his gloved hands that was threatening to travel up his arms…

Fording through winter's unforgiving nature, he finally reached the clearing where the small neighborhood was located. When he reached the backyard to the temporary house, he found himself under attack. Hedwig had been perched on a tree and immediately swooped down and was flying in frantic circles around him until finally coming to a rest on his shoulder and nipping at what little of his ear was showing from underneath his hat.

As he walked to the backdoor, Hedwig took off and returned to the tree, obviously enjoying the outside despite the cold. He looked through the window of the door, but did not see Brooklyn. He slipped inside quietly, removing all of the attire that had been protecting him from the elements. Despite the warmth inside, he found himself unable to control the shaking from the extended period of cold he had just endured, suspecting that some of it might be due to the anxiety he had started to feel rise as soon as he had seen the house.

He collected himself as best he could and headed toward the only other place she could possible be. Moving almost stealthily down the short hallway, he saw the door to the bedroom ajar and the light on. His heart began to race as he inched closer, being careful to avoid the places in the floorboards that creaked when stepped on. Avoiding them had become near second nature, for he had memorized them within the first week when sleeping had not been coming easily, leaving him to wander around aimlessly until drowsiness finally took over.

He stood in the bedroom doorway and gazed upon her. She was sitting up against the headboard with a pillow behind her, focusing intently on the cell phone he had swiped from the Demon kid before the infamous dinner had even commenced. A faint smile crossed his lips once seeing that she was clad in one of his shirts, by far the warmest one in his collection. It outsized her by a long shot, yet somehow it did so flatteringly.

A glint from the object residing on her finger that fictionally bound her to him caught his eye. She usually took it off when not in public, relying on her memory to remind her to put it back on when the time came. His memory had failed him on that matter one too many times in the beginning for him to trust it again. Perhaps hers had simply forgotten as well.

"Figure it out yet?" He asked, his chilled state prominent in his voice, distantly hoping that she had.

At the sound of his voice Brooklyn quite literally jumped, dropping the cell phone with a clatter upon the wooden floorboards. Her eyes met his almost disbelievingly, a glimmer of something he was not used to seeing was there.

"Harry..." She whispered, seeming paralyzed.  
A sad smile crossed his face. "Glad you still remember me. And to think I was worried you'd run off with the Demon next door."  
Her face instantly broke into one of disgust, a reflexive shudder visibly swept over her. "Ugh..." She muttered, dropping back onto the bed. "Don't _ever_ joke about that again..."  
He smirked, walking over to pick up the cell. "Is that another implied hexing threat or does that mean you really do prefer me to the devil incarnate?"  
"I hate you." She said weakly.  
"No you don't."  
"Damnit Harry!"  
He shook his head, sighing slightly. "And to think I had been hoping for a 'Merry Christmas, Harry.' I suppose 'Damnit Harry' will have to do."

She stood slowly and faced him, her expression unreadable. His anxiety level began to rise as he was near certain she was about to launch another verbal assault on him, most likely for the letter he knew he shouldn't have written. His gaze fell to the floor as a few of the lines he had written crossed his mind, focusing intently on his feet, not wanting his nearing embarrassment to show.

Another pair of feet were soon in front of his own and he hesitatingly looked up to her still unreadable expression. He was composing an apology in his head for his idiotic letter when she caught him off guard, embracing him tightly as though she hadn't seen him in ages.

"I thought something might have happened to you…" She mumbled into his chest.  
"I told you I'd come back." He whispered, letting his head fall against hers.  
"I know…it's just saying something is different than following through on it."  
"I'm not one to break promises."  
She pulled back and looked at him. Her eyes were forming tears, though none of them fell. "I know that now."

And without so much as a warning, her hands found their way to the back of his head and pulled him to her, greedily taking control over all of his senses as the cell phone went crashing to the ground once more. But something dark was creeping into his mind and he desperately tried to ignore it. He wasn't about to surrender another moment he could never get back, one that he had patiently been waiting for. The distinct presence of the bed underneath him only seemed to evoke the ordeal of the day prior, yet looking into her eyes he couldn't bear ro let it show. Not now.

"So, did you want your present now or later?" She whispered, her lips trailing across his neck.  
His arms wrapped around her instinctively. "Both."  
She pulled away slightly, glowering down. "Someone's being greedy."

The warmth she had stirred inside him was accompanied by a massive wave of guilt he had been trying so hard to prevent. Everyone he cared for, save from her, was gone, and there he was about to partake in an act that one might deem selfish given the circumstances. Something in his expression must have shown, for her eyes sobered, the light ceasing to shine within them. How he hated watching that vanish...

"Harry, what happened?" She questioned quietly, her palm coming to rest against the side of his face.  
His breath hitched for a moment. "Nothing good..." He whispered back, pulling her till his face was buried within her hair, its novel scent letting him escape from reality for the moment.

Somehow their unspoken bonds had rekindled. His need to not think on it, to not discuss it, to not mention it…she understood it all without needing to be told. That morning she gave him the one thing he really needed: Her. No restrictions, no restraints, no feelings held back. Right then all he needed to do was feel, and he would revel in her for as long as he could.

As the snow continued to fall outside, covering any imperfection in the landscape, nothing about what had happened needed to be masked. For the first time they were both in silent accord about what it had meant, neither feeling the need to vocalize it, not wanting to shatter the serene after effects.

He noticed the letter was open on the nightstand, yet she never mentioned it. The thought of her reading it before had made him terribly anxious, for he sure as hell knew what he wrote. Somehow he understood that she didn't need to mention it. She had already shown him how much it had truly meant to her.

Again his attention was drawn to the ring she had not taken off in private, as her fingers played with his, twisting it around his ring finger as they hovered upon the boundary of sleep and awareness. Fictional or not, for the time being they epitomized the part as though they had been in the role for years. It was in this fleeting moment he did not want to drag himself back to the story bound reality of it all.

She then unexpectedly turned to him, grasping his hand just a little tighter. He had not expected her to think it, let alone say it…

Their roles took a step toward authenticity. And for the second time since he had met her, everything had completely changed.


	19. The Interlude Before Adversity

**_A/N: Well, this certainly took forever to get out. Ever since I started working full time I've sort of hit a huge wall creativity wise and I hope this chapter doesn't reflect too much on that. As for the next chapter, I have no expected release date on it...sorry_ **

**Chapter 19 - The Interlude Before Adversity **

Though Harry wished the moment to linger forever, nothing like that ever worked in his favor. The pressing issue of what needed to be told was upon him and he could no longer delay in its conveyance. Brooklyn was tracing the bruising that was around his wrists with her fingertips, looking at him occasionally to see if he was ready to explain. Part of him didn't want to tell her about what had happened or what had to happen next.

He wasn't about to do the same thing he did last time when it had been Ginny. He wasn't about to let her go, especially after what had transpired. Shielding her from the imminent danger she was now in due to their recent declarations was now the forefront issue. How to keep her safe would be something they would need to decide on together, and it could only be tackled if he told her everything.

She listened attentively as he told her about the entire ordeal. Getting lost, meeting Ron, procrastinating on their departure, the arrival at the graveyard, the ropes that were still there, the Snape and Malfoy fake ambush, and how he never had to go there in the first place.

He was actually surprised when she didn't recoil away from him when he told her that the Dark Mark was now real and instead did the opposite, helping erase what doubt that might have been left in his mind about if she really meant what she said to him…

He continued on with Ron being taken away by Malfoy, how the Death Eaters were probably having a grand time torturing a captured Weasley, and Snape telling him that he now had to return to The Department of Mysteries and somehow find a way in to harness the power behind the locked door. He concluded with Snape drugging and leaving him at The Burrow, but decided to leave out what occurred with Ginny and in the morning since it was already enough information as it was to absorb.

Brooklyn stared at him with a hint of amazement. "I don't know how you handle it all, Harry."  
"It's not like I really have a choice in the matter." He said a little dejectedly. "I've been through the angry stage, the pretend nothing happened stage and I'm finally out of the depressed stage…I just don't know what's next."  
"I think you've moved into the bitter and cynical phase."  
He groaned. "What charming qualities to possess."  
"I'm just happy you made it through the depressed stage. Y-you had me worried." She admitted.  
He was taken back by this. "There was really nothing to worry about."  
"Well, your body language was telling a different story. Ron and H-hermione were worried too."  
"I…I had no idea."

The thought of having his best friends worrying over his brooding made him feel terrible. He should've been more open with them, especially Hermione. Though the words had been said out of anger, Ron was right, he had to live with the fact that he had treated Hermione quite poorly during the last few months she was alive.

Brooklyn placed a hand on his arm reassuringly. "She was never mad at you. She just wished she knew how to help you."  
"She told you that?" He asked, a sad sense of hopefulness in his voice.  
"Well, let's just say I overheard a lot of things."  
"Anything I should know?"  
"Not really. Unless you want to know how hopelessly in love they were. The romanticism was on the verge of sickening when they weren't arguing."

Harry couldn't help but smile. Tragic as it may have been, at least they had gotten some time together before her abrupt end. She wrapped her arms around his torso, somewhat reminiscent of how Ginny had the night prior. The difference was that he didn't want to peel her off of him.

"Thank you for coming back." She whispered. "I don't know how much longer I could've distracted myself from everything."  
"I know…the first holidays are always the hardest. It gets easier, I promise." He said reassuringly. "Come on, we can talk about it in the kitchen, I'm starving…I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

The long overdue talk that she needed to have, the one that he had deprived her of when they first met and instead shoved her away, was finally had. He wished he had not denied her when she first approached him, for she clearly had been struggling with coping, though she had not let it show until now. She was never one to reveal her weaknesses, to let her pain show and never once did she complain, for she was just appreciative for what she had. He had finally earned the privilege of knowing and he wasn't about to do anything but listen attentively.

Holding her hands in his as she spoke, she confessed her lingering grief that only seemed to get complicated by her avoidance of coping with it. This led to a form of self-hatred for seemingly dismissing the most important figure in her life, leading to regrettable modes of displacing the anger and frustration. He could only apologize for turning her away before, but it would not relinquish the pain in her voice. Tears would brim her eyes on occasion as she tried hard to maintain her composure. He told her it was okay to cry, but she dismissed his comment. It wasn't until the end of the conversation that she finally allowed herself to, albeit short lived.

They sat for quite some time in a relaxed silence on the living room couch, watching the ceaseless snowfall. Despite all that was going wrong, all that could possibly go awry…this one thing was flawless to him, even with all of the apparent imperfections.

Brooklyn broke the silence first, her voice timid as she spoke. "Listen Harry, about the Department of Mysteries…"  
He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing that the matter could've just been forgotten for a little while longer. "I don't know how I'm even going to go about getting in. It's not like I can just apparate in there…and then there's the whole wand check. I know I'll be stopped as soon as my wand registers, they'll probably want me for questioning about Ron."  
"I've broken into many places before. I've never been caught." She admitted, lowering her head. "I can help you get into the Ministry."  
"Is this what you were referring to about things you weren't proud of?"  
"Dad never wanted me to follow in his footsteps. He made me promise." She closed her eyes, clearly straining to not lose composure again. "I was just so ill and couldn't afford to go to St. Mungo's, but I knew exactly what I needed. I just waited for the shipment to be delivered…it was so easy."  
"I doubt your dad would be upset ove-"  
"I kept doing it." She cut him off. "I even managed to lift a key from an employee one day. It was quick money when I really needed it."

Obviously Brooklyn had been involved in stealing and selling pharmaceuticals. He didn't care though, none of it mattered. It was something he made sure to mention in the letter even though he could only venture a guess about what she could've done that she thought was so horribly wrong.

She sighed heavily. "There's a reason why it's so easy though…"  
"Wha-" But he stopped himself.

Brooklyn's appearance was changing. Literally. He watched mesmerized as her hair quickly darkened, shortening in length, her body frame altering until his shirt she was still wearing fit her perfectly, an infamous scar forming on her forehead…

He was now staring at a replica of himself, minus the glasses. His carbon copy looked away. This was one thing he had definitely not expected and his silence was testament to it. The look on the duplicate's face grew quite dismal and he had an understanding of why people always ask him if he's doing okay. Before he could even speak, she began to transform back into herself, though her hair now stopped just passed her shoulders – a good three inches shorter than it had been before.

"I needed a haircut…" She said, acknowledging the change.  
Harry continued to stare at her awestruck. He had always been fascinated by Tonks' abilities, but his captivation now resided with her. "Metamorphagus…" He murmured dumbly.  
She nodded resignedly. "I stopped morphing all together after dad died. I would mostly just change my appearance to steal and I just feel too guilty doing it now."  
"You know Tonks is-"  
"I know," She cut him off. "She's the only one that knew. I asked her not to tell anyone."  
He nodded in response, still surveying her appearance to see if she changed anything else besides the length of her hair.  
"Come on, I'm pretty sure I have something to heal that bruising." She said, gesturing for him to follow her.

Once in the extra room, she opened one of her bags. Inside appeared to be a fair amount of medicine, which he assumed was from her last thieve at St. Mungo's. She carefully took out the glass bottles, lining them up as though she was categorizing them. She then pulled out a book from the same bag and started reading it. After reading for a short time, she left the room and returned with a mixing bowl and cup.

As soon as she put the ingredients in she turned to him. "There's sleeping potion here if you ever need it. I would've offered sooner, but you know…"  
"Ever considered becoming a mediwitch?" He asked, hoping she would start to grasp the concept that he really couldn't care less that she hadn't told him about this sooner.  
A sad smile formed on her face. "I would do it if I could afford the training. And before you even open your mouth, I will not accept anything from you."  
He smirked. "But you're my wife."  
"Fake wife."  
He shrugged. "It was worth a try."  
She suddenly appeared ashamed, the reluctance present in her voice. "I don't think you're going to want to stay with someone like me."  
"I think otherwise, but why would you say that?"  
"Because you deserve to be with someone who is honest with you from the start and isn't just another lowlife blagger who's been with more people than they care to count and regrets every single one."

He looked at her uncertainly, doubts starting to creep back into his mind regarding her feelings toward him. Surely she couldn't be trying to get rid of him already. If she was, it would probably be a new world record for the shortest relationship ever.

"You're not a lowlife blagger." He said firmly. She didn't answer him, but was staring pointedly at the potion she was mixing. He then addressed the latter part of her statement apprehensively. "You regret me?"  
"Yes." She stopped mixing the potion and looked to him. "It was all for the same wrong and empty reasons as the rest. I knew it needed to stop when you had perceived it quite differently. It worked for awhile, but then it happened again and you were looking for something I didn't know how to give. I just couldn't seem to stop and I started hating myself for it…it's just one of the reasons I left."  
"If I had any idea I was making you feel like that, I would've stopped." He said, somewhat ashamed.  
"I know that now." She went back to mixing the potion. "You're also the only one I don't regret, but I think you figured that out by now."

A sense of relief washed over him as the doubts again vanished. The girl was surely going to drive him mad one of these days, she was confusing as hell. She had finally started giving him the pieces to let him figure her out though, so there was still hope for his sanity.

"I understand if your opinion of me has changed and if you want to take back anything you've said to me. I should've been upfront with you about everything. I'm sorry." She said dejectedly while handing him the ready potion she had poured into the cup. "I'm bad news, Harry. Get out of this while you still can."  
"No, you're stuck with me now." He swallowed the potion, shuddering at its sour taste.  
"Is that a promise?"  
"It's a fact."

As Brooklyn was packing up all of the miscellaneous medical products back into her bag, he started to notice that the soreness in his wrists was beginning to subside. Sure enough, the potion was fast acting and the bruising was slowly starting to diminish. One thing was for sure, she definitely had a knack for potions, an ability he certainly did not possess.

Something started to nag at him, something that he had decided to leave out in his relay of information of events to her prior. She had been open to him, despite her concerns of him regarding her in a different manner and possibly leaving. He decided to bestow the same courtesy.

"Since we're being honest with each other, I should probably tell you what happened at the Weasley's…" He trailed off.  
"This is about your ex, isn't it?" She asked apprehensively.  
He nodded, hesitating momentarily before speaking quickly. "She sort of took advantage of my drugged state last night. I don't know what she was thinking, but after she gave me the sleeping potion she got in bed with me and was…I don't know, getting way too comfortable. Don't get me wrong, she could've done a whole lot worse, but she still shouldn't have, especially since she was under the impression I was married and even took off the ring before doing so. I gave her hell for it when I woke up."  
"You know," She started, her eyebrow raised. "I thought you smelled at bit girly when you got back."  
"I guess she must have been wearing perfume. Quite frankly, I was way too out of it to notice."  
"Good." Her tone clearly letting him know that if he noticed there would've been consequences.  
"Was that a tinge of jealousy there?"  
"No…" She said quite unconvincingly, crossing her arms.  
"Are you sure?" He said with a smirk. "That certainly sounded like jealousy."  
"You're pressing your luck…"  
"That sounds like admittance to me."  
"You're lucky you already drank that potion, otherwise I wouldn't have given it to you."  
"Oh, and the rest of the Weasley's think we're married. I was too angry with them at the moment to correct them in the matter."  
"They think what…?" A shock expression appeared on her face.  
"And Mrs. Weasley definitely doesn't like you because she thinks that I was off getting married while Ron was getting captured."  
Somehow her eyes widened a bit more. "What…?"  
"The rest of them are just annoyed that they didn't get invited to the ceremony."  
"Please tell me you're joking…" She said miserably, a hand covering her face.  
"I'm not. I told them to never speak poorly of you again and then I just walked out because I was tired of listening to it. But don't worry, I'm sure Ginny has set them all straight by now since I yelled at her that we weren't actually married after she was telling me to get a divorce."  
Her face turned into one of dislike. "So marrying me was a mistake now?"  
"According to her, but it's not like we'r-"  
"How dare her! She doesn't know me! It's not like I'm sitting here telling you that I thought she was a total head case when I informally met her at that wedding! She better not have said anything else about me or so help me…"

Harry swallowed hard. While Ginny might not be on his good side right now, he rather her not end up dead or injured. His hesitation was too long though, for Brooklyn now had her wand out, pointing right at him.

"What else has she said about me?" Brooklyn demanded.  
"Well, it was more uncomplimentary to me, rather than you…"  
"Out with it! My patience is limited on matters like this!"  
His mind traced back to the reception where Ginny had bluntly called her a whore since she assumed he was hooking up with her afterward. "Okay, maybe it was uncomplimentary to you…" He took a deep breath and told her what Ginny had said about both of them.  
She lowered her wand. "Make sure we never properly meet."

Harry nodded, for he had no intention of formally introducing them after that conversation. He could kick himself for thinking, let alone actually acting on the idea of dating his best friend's sister, who is apart of what he considers his secondary family. If he could beat himself to oblivion for it, he would, but Brooklyn would probably do it first. Better yet, he would give Ron the honor of doing it. He deserved it for breaking that unspoken cardinal law between friends.

Speaking of Ron, it was time to work on getting him back….

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Son of a bit-"  
"This looks bad." Brooklyn cut Harry off. He threw her a sideways glare. "Okay, maybe bad is an understatement." She corrected.

The following day they made the executive decision to go against the Order and head back to London to scope out the Department of Mysteries. They decided to stop by Diagon Alley first, which turned out to be a rather terrible decision. They quickly found refuge in a darkened alleyway after seeing the first flyer with Harry's picture on it. It turned out that he was now wanted for questioning in the disappearance of Ronald Weasley. However, if you read between the lines of The Daily Prophet and the flyers posted, it was more than obvious that he was the prime suspect in Ron's assumed death. Harry wondered if he could summon his invisibility cloak – which he had unfortunately left behind – from such a distance, but more importantly how long it would take to arrive if he could.

"Have you used the Disillusionment Charm before?" He asked Brooklyn. "I've never tried to perform it, but I will if you don't know it."  
She pointed her wand and he felt the odd sensation run through him. "Let's just say I've done this for my dad a fair amount." She said, vague hints of contempt present in her voice.  
He nodded in response, quickly realizing she probably didn't see it. "Point taken. Let's get out of here."

Brooklyn wasted no time in leaving the alleyway, Harry holding onto her wrist in an attempt to stay close and not make her stand out in anyway. They were fast approaching the exit when Harry saw someone out of the corner of his eye that he was hoping wouldn't recognize Brooklyn.

Neville Longbottom was standing with his grandmother and looking as if he would jump at any opportunity presented out of the conversation. Though Neville had never seen her in person, he would've surely seen the photographs in The Daily Prophet months ago. But would he remember her was the question. A question Harry already answered considering his run of luck on these matters. Sure enough, Neville took leave of his grandmother at first glance of Brooklyn.

"Neville's approaching from the left." Harry hissed lowly as his gripped her wrist tighter. "He's a friend of mine, he'll be asking questions."  
"Hey!" Neville's voiced sounded. Brooklyn sighed heavily and quickened her pace. "Hey! Wait!" Neville caught up, almost running into Harry as he stepped in front of Brooklyn. "Sorry to bother you." Neville said, pausing to catch his breath. "You're Harry's girlfriend, right?"  
Brooklyn was staring at Neville like a deer in headlights, while conveniently placing her hand over the one with the ring that she still had on.  
Neville was observably becoming more awkward as her silence persisted. "I, umm, or not?"  
Brooklyn continued to say nothing and stared at the ground.  
"I just want to know how he's doing is all." Neville said dejectedly. "Nobody's heard from him and I just…everyone's thinking the worst and I figured maybe you would know something, anything. I-I'm sorry to have bothered you." He hung his head and turned away.  
After Neville took a few steps, Brooklyn went and caught his arm. "Don't think the worst."  
Neville stared blankly before her vague statement seemed to register and he smiled in response. "Thank you."

Brooklyn turned back around and was biting the corner of her lip. Harry said nothing and took hold of her wrist again. He was actually smiling at her obvious worry about what she had just said to Neville. Quite frankly he could care less. He planned on making an appearance in the very near future.

Turning himself in to the man designated to interrogate him at the Ministry was certain to make headlines…

Missing from that headline would be the fact that his interrogator would be a Metamorphagus.


	20. Impersonation

**Chapter 20 - Impersonation**

Thursday, 5:43pm, New Year's Eve.

Dusk was well underway when Anders Tollen exited the Ministry, looking forward to the long weekend ahead. Things had been chaotic at the Ministry as of late. Rumorings of the prime suspect's reemergence had been floating around. If there was one thing he was not looking forward to, it was interrogating a suspected Death Eater. He could kick himself for having the 'new employee trying to prove themselves' complex when he volunteered to do it.

But it was now officially the weekend and Anders was not going to let any thoughts of his pending duties ruin his New Year's plans.

Anders lived in a muggle community with his squib wife, so traveling on the public transportation system was nothing new for him.

Except for some reason the person being pressed up against the door with him, since they were the last two to enter the train, seemed familiar for some reason.

It couldn't have been an old schoolmate, at least not that he could remember. She couldn't have been too much younger though since she was wearing what appeared to be nursing scrubs. Too bad he couldn't read the font on the nametag without things becoming fairly inappropriate.

The train started moving and he began counting down the stops until his as he usually did, but with much more urgency. Anders had gotten himself stuck next to a frotteurer who had obviously found someone that struck his fancy, leaving Anders to inch his way closer to the nurse. The nurse, unfortunately, didn't take too lightly to being stepped on and glared at him for the proximity. With no where to go he submitted to his spot between the irritated nurse and the gyrating man.

At one particular stop, a good portion of the train emptied, forcing him to out of the train with the mass of people. By now he felt like a sardine that was now getting pushed all over the place. Anders managed to get back on the train before the doors closed and endured the rest of the ride home. It was when he did finally get home that he realized something was terribly wrong.

He had left his wand and ministry keys at work.

--------------------------------

Harry was pacing in front of the fireplace, checking his watch every thirty seconds or so. It felt like hours had passed when in fact it had only just barely been one. There was absolutely no need to panic…yet. He stopped for the umpteenth time to check his watch, learning it had only been twenty-three seconds since the last time he had checked. Groaning, he began pacing again. He involuntarily let out an odd sounding startle noise when he heard the loud pop resonate in the open room.

He turned to see who he assumed was Brooklyn standing where he had just been pacing, a coy smile residing on her face. She reached into the front pocket of the dingy green coat she was wearing, retrieving what she had set out to get.

"Oh, you're good." Harry said, fairly amused.  
"Well, he didn't exactly make it difficult." Brooklyn said, her appearance still unchanged from the façade. "He was too preoccupied with the people surrounding him to notice me."  
He smirked. "I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you look like a completely helpless old lady."  
She shrugged as she placed the set of keys and wand on the table. "I was going more for 'suffering from an incurable illness'. Now come here and give me a kiss."  
"You're joking…right?" He really hoped she was.  
"Does it look like I'm joking?"  
"Umm…" He really couldn't tell. There were so many wrinkles. "Yes?"  
"Well I'm not, so come here." She said without wavering.  
"Uh…"  
"Don't make me come to you. You've never had a problem before."  
"That's because y-"  
"Because what? Are you going shallow on me?"  
"You can pass for my great great grandmother!" He practically whined.  
She crossed her arms. "Well now I'm just insulted, it should be grandmother at the most." With a huff she morphed back into her usual self. "Happy now?"

Knowing that they most likely didn't have much time before the unsuspecting Ministry worker figured out that he was missing some of his most vital belongings, they wasted no time in undergoing their plan to break into the Ministry. Brooklyn didn't spend much time looking like herself as she quickly transformed into a man Harry had never seen before. She caught him off guard when she quickly turned him around and muttered a spell that bound his hands behind his back.

Harry looked at her questioningly. She shrugged. "Got to act the part."

Before going into public, Harry was able to convince her to let him roam free until it would become impossible to not rouse suspicion. He tried to remain calm and confident about their plan. Relying on repressed memories of yet another trauma and trying to get passed a seemingly permanently locked door to get a hold of a power he wasn't even sure of its function.

Not to mention the fact that he wasn't even sure how this power would benefit him or if it even would.

Harry found his hands again bound behind his back once again, being led by the upper right arm toward the Ministry. Naturally, _everyone_ within viewing distance was staring. The hatred emanating from some eyes startled him. Some were whispering. He didn't want to know what about, though he was fairly certain it couldn't be good. Brooklyn tugged on his arm. It was then he noticed he was lagging.

"So, uh, what was your name again?" Harry asked awkwardly, trying to keep his mind off of the onlookers.  
She quietly cleared her throat. "I don't remember the first name," she whispered, "The last name should be enough to get in. Now just stay calm and don't do anything stupid."

That's when Harry noticed a few people with shape identifiers aimed directly at him. He muttered a string of obscenities to himself.

At least the spectators were starting to dwindle as the sun was quickly setting. By the time they reached the Ministry, the sun had fully set and the street lights were guiding their way.

----------------------------------

"Honey, they will still be there in the morning. Don't worry about it."  
"Don't worry about?!" Anders said horrified. "That's pretty much my livelihood I left behind!"  
"But it's still rush hour," Evelyn, his wife, whined. "And besides, you need to make the jello shots before people start arriving!"  
"Can't you just make them?" She simply glared, arms folded across her chest. "Fine, fine. I'll make them, but I'm going to get my stuff as soon as I'm done!"  
"If you're not back by the time the first person arrives…"  
"Please tell me you at least went and bought the jello."  
"No." She said indignantly.  
"Evelyn!!!!"  
"You said you were going to take care of all of that when you got home tonight. Be happy the liquor store is on my way home from work or you would have to stop there too."

Anders started groaning and changed quickly into civilian clothing to go to the grocery store.

----------------------------------

They arrived at the telephone booth and dialed the sequence of numbers.

After the receptionist answered, Brooklyn cleared her throat. "This is Tollen. I'm assigned to the Weasley disappearance and have brought in a suspect to question."  
Harry kept a straight face, even though her attempt to deepen her voice was quite comical.  
"And would this be the _prime_ suspect?" She responded with a hint of uneasiness.  
Brooklyn affirmed her inquiry and picked up the badge that read, 'Harry Potter: Interrogation'.  
"Very well. Don't forget the wand registry."

At the end of the Atrium, Harry had no choice but to deposit his wand. He was fairly certain that trying to slip in someone else's would blow their cover immediately. They surely had his wand composition and dimensions on record for such an occasion. The few people that were left in the Ministry were giving Brooklyn approving nods and statements of encouragement, while they glared at Harry.

It was lucky for them that there were few people there, for it took a few hallways before finding the office with 'Anders Tollen' on the door. Brooklyn took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door.

"Well if you don't mind me saying Anders, this doesn't look like the Department of Mysteries to me." Harry stated, wishing she would unbind his hands soon.

She didn't respond. Instead she began sifting through papers on his desk and going through files in drawers. Just as quickly as she mumbled something about a locked file cabinet, she produced a key to open it. After moving the front files out of the way she pulled out a fairly thick file and practically threw it on the desk.

Classified. Confidential. High Security. You name it, it was stamped in red on it.

According to the file Ron's disappearance was not a missing person's case after all. It was officially categorized as a homicide, though publicly referred to otherwise to prevent mass hysteria. A quick scan of the case clearly showed that they had no evidence whatsoever to suspect Ron dead. In fact, Harry came to the conclusion that they were jumping to this conclusion as an indirect way of the Ministry summoning him for his services without having to go through the Order to get to him.

The Anders looking Brooklyn burned the file and made the remnants disappear. "So, which way to The Department of Mysteries?"

----------------------------------------

Jello.

It's amazing the ways one person could ruin a recipe so incredibly simple. But Evelyn somehow managed to do it and he was now stuck in the lingering rush hour traffic on the way back from the grocery store. He ultimately knew his wife was right and that his keys and wand would be safe inside the Ministry. He just had this nagging coming from the back of his mind convincing him that he had not forgotten them and he had in fact left with them both. The thought of someone stealing his belongings was naturally disturbing, but this was different. He was different.

He was the man with all of the information anyone could ever want on Harry Potter. All details on paper and memorized.

If Evelyn found out that he was the one who took on the bulk of the case, she would surely kill him for doing something so foolish. Fact is, he was more concerned about other people trying to kill him to get to the information. And even though it was classified information that Anders was to conduct most of the investigation, if someone were to know the right people and ask the right questions….

Anders pulled back into his driveway and found all of the utensils he would need already set out for him. He quickly made the jello mix, divided it into three different bowls, and then added different alcohol to each. After placing them all in the refrigerator, he kissed his wife goodbye and headed back to work.

He had just under two hours to get back.

------------------------------------------

"I'll try to avoid the brain room this time," Harry said solemnly as he stared at the large, circular, rotating room.  
"What…?" Brooklyn said, now looking as herself.  
"You'll know if I find it. Just hope I don't."

Harry was now armed with Anders Tollen's wand, Brooklyn with her own. He opened the door closest to him, marking it with a red X like Hermione had years ago. He knew immediately what it was and slammed it shut. If he went down to check out the veil again, he was sure he would hear Sirus' voice and the pull would be too much to resist this time. Ignoring Brooklyn's questioning gaze, he waiting for the doors to stop spinning before trying another one. Harry felt his door begin to open and decided to shut it without looking in. The door of rooms began to spin once again.

Harry noticed that there was an additional red X from the two he had made.

"It was locked." Brooklyn said.  
Harry walked over to where she was standing. "Alright, I know simple unlocking charms don't work, so I bet more complex ones won't either."  
"I can try to pick it." Brooklyn offered.  
"I tried that." He said gravely. "Melted the knife."

Brooklyn appeared to be in deep thought. Knowing it was a long shot, Harry decided to try opening the door with a staff wand. It didn't budge or make a sound. Brooklyn knelt down and appeared to be looking for a keyhole. She quickly ran from door to door doing the same thing. When she was finished she was beaming.

"It's the only door without a keyhole!"  
"And that's a good thing, because…?"  
"I've opened a few doors like this before. It's almost like a combination to a safe, you need to perform the right sequence of charms, spells, whatever to open it."  
"Well how to we know which one's to try?"  
"They usually revolve around whatever it's protecting." She looked to Harry. "What's your best guess of what this power is?"

Harry rubbed his face, stifling a groan. Something Voldemort did not possess. Well, that was simple. He had been told this many times by many different people.

Love.

He shook his head. It seemed way too simple. Could it be immortality? No. That is what Voldemort was trying to achieve with the Stone. He noticed Brooklyn staring at him.

Feeling somewhat foolish, he told her. "I think it's love."  
A huge grin spread across her face.  
Now he really felt stupid. "It's just what everyone's been telling me for years!"  
"Harry think!" She took his shoulders.

He was really feeling dumb now. She had the answer already and he was still scrambling for clues. It was torturous.

Torture…Cruciatius Curse…Voldemort…Graveyard…

"Old magic." He whispered. "My mum…Voldemort said it was old magic."

Now would be the perfect time for Hermione to still alive. She would be a walking, talking history textbook and could probably think of 10 spells off of the top of her head.

"Please tell me you were about to stay awake in History of Magic."  
"I did, but it wouldn't help much."  
His hopes sank with a dark realization. "Brook, my mum had to die to create the life bond. That's what saved me."  
"I know." She stated simply as she pulled out her wand. "Even though it's useless against him now, I think we'll be in luck here."

Harry knew where this was going and held out the arm where the blood that been taken to supply Voldemort. The scar had faded, but the faint white line was still visible against his skin. He felt a slight prick, as if from a needle, and the tip of her wand was coated with his blood. She held it to the nonexistent keyhole. Nothing happened.

Brooklyn obviously agreed as she threw her arms up in disgust, telling the locked door exactly what she thought of it.

That's when Harry noticed that her wand had not dropped to the floor like it should have when she let it go. Instead, it was sticking straight out of where she had put it. He walked passed the still ranting Brooklyn and quietly said, _Alohomora_.

The nonexistent lock clicked.


	21. Time to Strike

**Chapter 21 Time to Strike**

With a sense of reluctance Harry began to slowly open the door. The door was merely two inches open when the blinding light came spilling out from behind it. With the door fully open, they both cautiously walked in, wands drawn with their free hand shielding their eyes. The door was left open, unsure if it would lock itself now that Brooklyn had retrieved her wand from it. Inching closer, the light was becoming even more blinding. Feeling as though their sight was going to be compromised, Harry told Brooklyn to stay back and make sure no one was coming. She didn't argue, immediately turning her back toward him, keeping guard at the door.

Harry felt as though his corneas were being burned as he approached the source of the ever blinding light. From what he could tell, it was an empty room with the exception of a lone center stone column. The light was the purest color of white he was ever seen. When he reached the column, he could see nothing but white light. He was almost certain that he would be blinded if he kept his eye on it for much longer.

Expecting there to be some form of container, he reached for it blindly. He could feel the energy emitting from it, becoming extremely warm, but not hot. Harry never did find a container. Unsure if he had come into contact with it, he fully opened his eyes. The light was so blinding it startled him, making him stumble forward, having to brace himself on the column to not fall completely.

He landed face first into the ball of contained energy. Just as quickly as it had made contact with him, it was gone. Eyes stinging from the exposure, he glanced around. The room was quite dark. Brooklyn was still standing by the door keeping watch. For an instant he thought it had disappeared, lost it completely. But he noticed something different.

He was feeling…weird. It wasn't a bothersome feeling, it was just…odd.

It must have absorbed into him immediately on contact. Harnessing the power was a lot easier than he had anticipated. He just hoped that it was nontransferable. Testing this, he approached Brooklyn and touched her shoulder. She turned slowly, eyes preemptively squinting. They fully opened upon seeing that there was nothing to shield her eyes from.

She smiled. "I take it you succeeded."  
"I guess so."  
"Your features are lighter." She said. He looked at her quizzically. "Nothing drastic, it just looks like a weight has been lifted from you or something."  
He sighed in relief. "Oh good, I thought you were about to tell me my hair was blonde or something."  
"Well, that too."  
"WHAT?!?!"  
"Just kidding." She smirked  
"You better be…" He ruffled his hair, making sure a few strands came out in the process. After affirming that his hair was still indeed brown, he looked around the barren room one last time. "Alright, let's get out of here."

--------------------------------------------

Anders decided the quickest way to get there was by apparating. When he popped into his office he was stunned by what he found. He door had been left cracked open, drawers open, files everywhere and his whole desk askew. His first instinct was to check on the Potter file. His anxiety began to rise when he saw the locked cabinet drawer containing the file wide open. As he feared, the file was not in its proper location. Anders started to panic, throwing file after file out of the drawer onto the floor until it was empty.

This was not good. Not good at all.

His mind began to race. His first thought immediately went to his wife. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. For one thing was for certain…this missing file meant that he was in immediate danger. If whoever it was went to go looking for him at his home, they'd find Evelyn there making party preparation. He didn't want to go beyond that thought. 

Anders calmed himself down enough to do a quick search of the rest of his ransacked office. With a sigh, he determined that only the Potter file had been taken. He slammed his top desk drawer shut, leaving the rest in their remaining half open positions.

_Oh no…_

His key and wand were still missing.

Just when Anders thought things couldn't get any worse, they did.

Now standing in the doorway was none other than Harry Potter and…him.

-------------------------------------------

_"Stupefy!"_ It was Harry's first instinct when they reached Anders Tollen's office and realized that the real Anders Tollen was there. "Alright use a memory charm on him. We'll leave the place ransacked and he'll just assume he was attacked."  
"And the file I burned?" She took Anders wand from Harry and placed it on his desk along with the key to his office.  
"Well, he'll have more problems than that to handle when he wakes up." He dragged Brooklyn toward the door. "Change back into him so we can get my wand back."

She complied, performed a few memory charms and performed the counter-curse once Harry was halfway down the hall and ran. Once back on the ground floor they returned to the registry to get Harry's wand.

The attendant looked at them oddly. "You're done?"  
The Anders looking Brooklyn cleared her throat, "Yes."  
"Isn't he supposed to go straight to Azkaban?!"  
Harry's mouth dropped.  
Brooklyn didn't flinch. "There isn't a sufficient amount of evidence to do so."   
"But that doesn't matter! He's supposed to be transported after interrogation!"  
Brooklyn stepped forward, looking quite angry. "Last time I checked, I ran this case and I don't follow commands from anyone but the Minister of Magic himself."  
"But, this is an outrage! He's a wanted Death Eater!" The attendant was clearly exasperated.  
"Give me his wand." She demanded.  
"I won't give a wand to a Death Eater!"  
"And you think I would?"  
The attendant stared speechless for a moment. "I need to clear this with the Minister."  
"If I'm not mistaken, the Minister is on Holiday."  
"Then I'll check with…" the attendant sighed heavily.  
"That's right, I'm next in line in this matter. Now give Mr. Potter his wand."

Begrudgingly, Harry's wand was given back. Harry couldn't help but smile. Brooklyn was extremely quick thinking and convincing beyond belief. He was actually disappointed in himself for not taking notice of her in school, even though she was a year ahead of him.

With his wand now in hand, they were walking leisurely toward the exit. That was until the real Anders Tollen appeared at the registry, apparently asking if anyone had been in here since he had left earlier that evening. The attendant was screaming indecipherably, pointing down the hallway toward them. When Anders started running toward them, Harry's grabbed Brooklyn's arm and apparated both of them out of there, back to his house.

If there wasn't a bounty out for him already, there certainly was now.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get in contact with Snape and Malfoy to save Ron.

--------------------------------------------

"Okay," Brooklyn said, still completely flabbergasted. "That was _by far_ the most spontaneous thing I've ever done in my life."

Harry looked at the date on the paper. _January 1, 1998._ He put it on the desk in the drawing room. He was about to respond to her statement when a sudden burning sensation came from his chest. He grabbed his shirt, immediately knowing what the cause was. His now authentic Dark Mark was now functioning for the first time. He unbuttoned the first few button of his shirt. Sure enough, there it was in all of its hellish glory.

Brooklyn looked to him knowingly. "Time to get in contact with the Order."  
"I'm sorry." He offered.  
She ignored his statement. "Let's go to Tonks' house. We'll just wait for her if she's not there."  
"And how are we supposed to get in if she's not there?"  
"Please, Harry. She told me that you became quite the expert at unlocking things in her house." She smirked. "Besides, we're practically certified in breaking and entering."  
"I would like to hex her for leaving us in that house from hell for so long. I guess the element of surprise would help." He mused.  
"You've got to be on good behavior, Harry."  
"Now you sound like her."  
"Trust me, I'd love to hex her myself for having to put up with that demon child." She shuddered at the mere thought of that kid. "I rather just get this over with and move on."  
"Alright, alright. Good behavior."

He should've made her promise the same. As soon as Tonks walked into her house, Brooklyn had her fall flat on her face. Tonks didn't retaliate. She didn't say anything about it in fact. She said something else…

"Do you two ever _think_ before you act?!" She straightened out her sleeve. "Now everyone has to work on a Holiday! _A Holiday!_"  
Harry ignored her comments. "Tonks, I have something really important to tell you."  
"And not just _any_ Holiday. National Hangover Day!"  
"Tonks!"  
"People were still drunk, falling asleep, stumbling ar-"  
"Will you shut it about working, I'm trying to tell you something!" Harry said after losing patience. Tonks stared. "There's a Death Eater meeting going on."  
"A what…?" She shook her head. "How do you know this?"  
Harry sighed heavily. "My Dark Mark works just like any other one. Whatever is going on started about half an hour ago."

Tonks didn't respond. She walked over to the couch and sat by Brooklyn. Her expression was grave. Something was obviously not right.

"Harry, you've made an enemy."   
"The list grew?"  
His sarcasm obviously wasn't amusing her. "Harry, I'm serious. Someone in the Order has aligned themselves with the Ministry."  
"But the Ministry thinks he's a murderer." Brooklyn interjected.  
Tonks acknowledged her statement.  
"Who is it?!" Harry demanded. She didn't respond. "So, I can't trust anyone. Not even you."  
"Harry…" Tonks said warily.  
"Who is it? Who thinks I killed Ron?!" He yelled.  
"Moody." Harry stared, stunned. "You know how he's suspicious of everyone." She sounded as if she was actually trying to reassure him.  
"Yeah, but he's an enemy I really can't afford to have! What am I supposed to do?!"  
"We will see where he really stands in the end."  
"With Moody on my tail, I might not make it to the end!"  
Tonks glared at him. "Which is why you should still be in hiding."  
"I can't wait any longer." He said firmly.  
"If you go off searching alone, it will not end well. You need the Order to help you."  
Indignantly, Harry stood his ground. "From now on, it'll be the Order that needs _my_ help. I'll be in contact with you when I'm ready for _your_ services."  
Tonks started to panic. "Wait! What about the Dark mark? The meetings? You're all we have!"  
"I just told you there was something going on. I don't know where and I don't know what, I just know that Death Eaters have been summoned."  
"And that is priceless information."  
He sighed. "I'll let you know when it happens again. But for now I need to leave."  
"Where are you going?" Tonks inquired.  
"I can't tell you." He stood up, Brooklyn did the same. "You need to stay here."  
"What?! No!" Brooklyn said, outraged.  
"It's going to be dangerous enough as it is." Harry said calmly.  
"Don't give me that crap! I got you into the Ministry! I pretty much opened that door for you!"  
She did have some valid points.  
"I don't want to go where I'm going." He stared at her, hoping she could figure out where he planned on going with having to say it.  
She lowered her head and nodded.  
Tonks looked horrified. "Oh god, Harry. What are you doing?" He was gone before she could finish the sentence. She turned to Brooklyn, demanding where he went.  
Brooklyn hesitated, then sighed heavily. "To get Ron."

-----------------------------------------

Three. That was how many times Harry had stepped foot in this damned graveyard. This time _would_ be the last time. How he hoped it really, truly was.

There was dead silence in the graveyard. It was eerie instead of evil. He figured he must be getting used to the place. Harry knew he needed to find Snape or Malfoy, but wasn't quite sure how. He looked toward the house in the distance and instinctively began to move toward it. He had barely taken two steps when a voice cut through the air.

"Took you long enough, Potter." It was definitely Malfoy. "We don't have all the time in the world to work with here."  
"Where's Ron?" Harry demanded.  
"Now, now. Don't get you're panties in a twist." Malfoy taunted. "Ron's fine. A little battered, but nothing too serious. Minus that one time, but he's alright now."  
Harry simply glared.  
"What?!" Malfoy said defensively. "Snape fixed him up as soon as no one was looking!"  
"Can we just get on with this?"

Malfoy threw a pair of robes at him. Obviously ones a Death Eater would wear. Harry didn't need to be told what to do with them. Hating what he was doing, he put on the robes and put the hood up. If Moody could only see him now….

"There's a meeting going on nearby." Malfoy said, starting to walk toward the house. "I can only assume it won't last much longer since you took forever to get here."  
"Just tell me what I need to do."  
"There are ten Death Eaters assigned to this place at all times. Obviously you know who two of them are already."  
"You're boring me Malfoy, get to the part where Ron and I get the hell out of here."  
"After tea and biscuits of course." Harry was ready to slug him. "Just shut it and listen, Potter or you'll get us both killed."

Standing in the shadows of the Riddle house, Malfoy told him the master plan. 

Harry was less than impressed.

"So let me get this straight," the sarcasm was dripping from his voice. "Ron's already out wandering around aimlessly and you want me to wander around in there aimlessly too and hope we run into each other before getting caught?"  
"Well, it was mostly Snape's idea." Malfoy defended. "And you're not wandering _aimlessly_, Ron's looking for that damn snake and you're going to help him kill it."

Harry sighed. He had forgotten that he would have the chance to kill Nagini during this as well. That snake could kill Ron and him in one strike. Who knows how long they would have to get to a doctor if one of them got bit. Not to mention he wasn't exactly sure how to kill a living Horcrux. He decided his best bet was simply _Avada Kedavra_. 

"Potter, you coming or what?" Malfoy said impatiently, waiting for him by a side door.

Nodding slightly, he made his way toward the door, knowing that more of his nightmares were about to become reality.

--------------------------------------

Ron had been hiding behind the decrepit chair for about five minutes since another Death Eater came to stand guard at the door. He didn't know why, there was nothing in this room to guard. At least nothing that he could see from his current crouching position. He had run upstairs in search of Nagini after Snape had let him out and gave him a pair of Death Eater robes as cover and his wand. Snape had told him that Nagini was currently slithering around somewhere on the top floor. Snape had also told him that Harry had been successful at breaking into the Department of Mysteries and should be on his way to help.

How Ron wished Harry would hurry up.

The Death Eater, who had his back toward Ron, left the doorway. Ron took the opportunity to get up and scope out the room. There wasn't much too it. He checked every corner, crevasse, any snake like hiding place. Then he remembered that Nagini wasn't exactly a small snake. 

Snakes were quickly taking over spiders as his biggest fear. 

It was time to search another room and hopefully not get caught. He knew that there were at least two Death Eaters he had seen and he was fairly certain he heard the voice of another. The third floor was definitely smaller compared to the others. The stairs led to an open landing with five different doors. This didn't exactly give Ron much of a chance to switch rooms without being seen. 

Mustering up some nerve, he threw the hood over his head and looked out the door. There was one Death Eater leaning on the railing, looking down to the floors below. The other two were engrossed in a conversation in the room right next to his. Just as he was about to step out of the room, a voice from downstairs sounded.

"Hey Crabbe! Come here will you?" Ron thought it sounded like Malfoy.

The Death Eater leaning on the railing nodded and made his way down the stairs. From the quick glimpse that Ron got, Crabbe was indeed the Crabbe from Hogwarts. He was willing to bet that the other two on the floor were some Hogwarts dropouts as well. When he couldn't hear the stairs creaking, he peered out again. The other two Death Eaters were now at the railing, obviously looking to see what was going on.

Ron took his chance and stealthily made his way to the other end of the landing, to the only other open room. Once inside he stepped to the right and pressed himself against the wall, pushing the hood off of his head. His heart was pounding. It was the only thing he could hear. He closed his eyes hoping it would help decrease the anxiety. It seemed to work. He could hear the muffled voices of the two Death Eaters still outside the room.

He looked out the door once more. To his surprise, no one was there. He caught a glimpse of them going down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. He turned around to explore the room.

A lump rose in his throat.

Nagini was _glaring_ right at him…

And was rising into a striking position.


	22. An Earnest Set Up

**Chapter 22 - An Earnest Set-Up**

Malfoy pushed Harry out of sight before calling to Crabbe. Only two meters away, Harry began to sweat under the robes. He was beginning to realize that he would have very limited time to find Ron and kill Nagini. Malfoy had just informed Crabbe that Ron was no longer in his cell and the grounds needed to be searched extensively. Harry heard more footsteps coming down the stairs, but was unable to see who they belonged to as he was yanked in the other direction. Turning soundlessly, he saw Snape motioning for him to follow.

Two rooms later, Snape turned to him and spoke promptly. "You'll need to work quickly. Weasley is already upstairs and Nagini has probably found him by now."  
"Found _him?_" Harry didn't like the sound of that.  
"Potter, you'll be so lucky to have Nagini distracted." Snape sneered. "As soon as it's over, get out immediately. We will align at the final battle."  
Harry nodded in understanding. Snape pushed Harry out into the open foyer where only Malfoy remained.  
"Well, don't just stand there Potter, get up there!" Malfoy shooed him away.

Harry ran up the stairs as fast as he could, passed the second floor and up to the third. The door immediately in front of him was open. He looked around quickly. Only one other door was open at the other end. All was silent. He glanced down to the first floor. Malfoy was waving his arms at him to move. He could see Snape rolling his eyes, pointing in the direction of the door farthest from him.

Harry decided to look in the room in front of him first.

-------------------------------------

Malfoy slapped his hand to his forehead. "What an idiot."  
"You would do the same." Snape said indifferently.  
Malfoy huffed. "Great, now Weasel is really going to be dead."  
"He was dead to begin with."  
"But if Potter just goes there now, maybe h-"  
"It's the only way, Draco. I told you this from the start."

Draco gazed up to the top floor, looking ready to head up there himself. Snape put a heavy hand on his shoulder. Draco never did have it in him to kill. Nor did he have it in him to protect himself from the Dark Lord's legilimency powers. Snape raised his wand to Draco's head, erasing the events that had just transpired.

-------------------------------------

Ron no longer feared spiders. In fact, he loved them. What he would give to be up against the spiders in the Dark Forest right now.

Nagini striked.

Ron dove to right, away from the door. He quickly realized what a mistake that was. For Nagini did not mean to bite him, she meant to drive him deeper into the room…where she could bite him a lot easier.

Ron scrambled to his feet, knocking over a table in the process. A weak defensive move on his part. His mind was racing. After everything that he had been put through while in captivity, this was not the way he wanted to go. Being killed by a Death Eater he could handle. Death by snake wasn't too appealing.

Ron looked back to the knocked over table, ready to send a curse at Nagini.

She wasn't there.

Panicked, he eyes scanned the room while moving in the direction of his only exit.

Ron fell to the ground. He knew exactly what he had tripped over.

_Where was Harry?_

---------------------------------

Harry heard a crash. No doubt coming from the room at the other end of the landing. He ran out of the first room, taking quick notice that only Snape remained on the bottom floor. When he reached the doorway, he went numb, holding onto the edge of the molding to keep from swaying.

Nagini had in deed found Ron.

"Harry…" Ron said weakly, reaching a hand out toward him.

Harry winced, closing his eyes for a moment. The sight was unbearable. Ron's legs were halfway consumed as Nagini inched her mouth farther along. There was no way Harry could use the killing curse now, he would kill Ron right along with her. He dropped to his knees, taking Ron's outstretched hand.

"Kill it." Ron said.  
Harry's voice was pained. "I'll kill you if I do that."  
"I can feel the poison in my veins. I'm already dead." A tear slid down his cheek, but he actually smiled. "Do me a favor, don't let anyone see me half eaten. That would be embarrassing."  
Tightening his lips, Harry stood up. "Ron, I'm so sorry."  
"Do it."

Glaring at Nagini, who had been inching her way off of Ron since his arrival, extreme anger rose as he pointed his wand at her head.

_"Avada Kevdavra!_

Harry saw the green light shoot from the tip of his wand. He didn't watch the hit. He couldn't. It was his first time using the killing curse. He felt ill and fell to his knees once more. He didn't need to open his eyes to know what lye in front of him. There was no movement to hear. Tears were coming from his closed eyes. He wanted to scream.

He forced his eyes open. Ron laid wide-eyed and lifeless, blood seeping through his clothes from the wounds to his legs. Nagini was also unmoving, but Harry wasn't going to take any chances. Prying Ron's fingers from his wand, he drove it through the snake's head. The eyes flashed red for a fleeting moment and dissipated.

Shaking, Harry took out the wand and carefully pried open the mouth to get Ron fully out of Nagini's grasp. Suddenly, Snape's words came to mind.

_You'll be so lucky to have Nagini distracted._

It was a set-up from the start.

Harry rose and walked out to the landing. Snape was still there, his back to him. He raised his wand, fully intending to cause harm. Snape turned his head and stared.

"You set me up." Harry said simply, a fury in his voice like there had never been before.  
"Potter, you fool, leave now!" Snape demanded.

Snape immediately disapparated, leaving Harry staring at the empty foyer. Multiple popping sounds began to resonate throughout the house. Harry ran back into the room, knowing he had probably been seen. Grabbing Ron and his wand, he added to the popping sounds on the third floor of the Riddle House.

-----------------------------------------

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. They all passed agonizingly slow. It was the smell that finally broke Harry out of his daze. He had no idea how long he had been staring at the body of his best friend that he had laid on the couch in front of the fireplace, a pillow propped under his head. He had closed his eyelids. At first he looked like he was sleeping, but the color faded. Only the signature Weasley red remained the same.

He sent Hedwig with a barely legible note to Brooklyn that he wasn't even sure made sense.

All he knew was that he had killed his best friend. He was now guilty of the crime the Ministry was accusing him for. He deserved to rot in Azkaban for it. Hell, he was ready to turn himself in to the real Anders Tollen. But he couldn't do so much as move right then.

And just as he had at Hermione's funeral, he lost complete control of his emotions.

So many people were dead. So many because of their connection to him. Now one because of him. He had just come to terms with so many of the other deaths and had forgiven himself, but now…now it was all coming back. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mundungus, Hermione, Ron…who knows of the ones he didn't know of. It didn't matter. Anyone that died in this war was going to be indirectly or directly his fault.

If he did win the battle against Voldemort, he felt as though he had nothing left to live for. He will have fulfilled the prophecy, saved the wizarding world, there would be no use for him afterward. Even if there was, he wasn't going to be able to live with himself after everything.

Harry knew that people had entered the room. He didn't know who, or how many…he didn't really care. He was too caught up in his own miserable breakdown to even lift his head from the table he was crying on. Someone was trying to lift him up off of the floor, but he was an unmovable mass.

Multiple popping sounds began to resonate in the room, stirring the fresh memory of being of the third floor of the Riddle House. Horrid screams accompanied his continuing grief, no doubt of them being from a mother who had lost a child. He could only assume that all remaining Weasley's were there and probably the Order as well.

Another attempt was made at lifting him from his slumped over position on the table. Obviously there were several people trying this time seeing as they succeeded in dragging him away from the table before letting him go, where he returned to a crumpled mess on the floor.

Words were whispered into his ear, but he didn't comprehend them. His hand was taken by another, but he didn't grasp it. He barely felt a hand running over his forehead, through his hair. He knew who it was though and he forced his eyes to open.

Brooklyn leaned down, whispering in his ear again. "It's okay."  
He shook his head, choking on his words as he whispered back. "I…k-killed Ron."  
"I know." She tugged on his arm. "Come on, get up."

He complied. The room was full. Ron was covered with a sheet, blood stained where his legs were. Someone that was not Brooklyn was now holding onto him for dear life. There was a familiar scent, but he couldn't quite place it.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." It was Mrs. Weasley. "I'm so, so sorry."  
He had no idea why she was apologizing after he had just killed her son. He attempted to speak, but she just shushed him, holding him like only a mother could.  
"You did what you had to do." She said through her tears. "I'm glad you're alright."

A realization hit Harry after Mrs. Weasley let him go. She knew what he had been doing, where he was…

He glanced around the room, tears still falling from his eyes. Sympathy. That's what they're eyes were telling him. They all knew. Panic stricken, the unthinkable came to mind…

_Had Snape and Malfoy's cover been blown?_

"Ron should probably be moved." A male voice in the background said.

Standing shakily, Harry saw Moody was taking to Mr. Weasley, who was obviously distraught over the loss of his youngest son. Moody looked at Harry, his expression unreadable. He left with Mr. Weasley to take Ron to the morgue.

"Harry, I know the current situation is terrible," It was Professor McGonagoll. He knew the 'but' was coming. "But, we need you to answer some question for us so we can make the final preparations."  
Still in a fog, he looked to her questioningly. "For a funeral?"  
She hesitated. "No, Harry. For the final battle."  
Harry slumped onto the now clean couch, clutching onto the pillow he put under Ron's head. He throat was scratchy. "I need some water."

Brooklyn appeared again, handing him a glass of water. She quickly disappeared into the background. He was pretty sure she left in the direction of the drawing room. He wished he could follow her.

"So, Harry, it's been awhile." It was Lupin. Harry almost smiled as he took a seat next to him on the couch. "Hear you stay in hiding just as well as I do." Harry shrugged. "I got bored too."

Harry was relaxing a bit, his clutch on the pillow loosening a bit.

"That and Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy helped out." Lupin nonchalantly added. Harry's gaze shot to him. "Why don't tell everyone here that I'm not mad when I say that."  
Harry's mouth hung helplessly open.  
"Please Harry. You won't endanger them. I promise."  
Harry hung his head. "They're the reason I'm alive and Ron and Nagini are dead."  
Whispering was going on in the background. Lupin continued. "And the Ministry incident the other day?"  
"They told me what I needed from there. They had nothing to do with breaking in." Harry couldn't believe he was defending them.  
Shacklebot stepped forward, kneeling in front of Harry. "Did they say anything else? Are there others?"  
Harry felt as though he was on the brink of crying again. "Snape said that they would align with us in the final battle. They're the only two that I know of. They never mentioned anyone else."  
"And your mark?"  
A tear slid down his cheek. "There's been nothing since earlier today." He could feel his composure breaking. "I'm…I don't want to answer anymore questions."  
Shacklebot nodded in understanding. "The time is closer than you think, Harry. I know you'll be ready."  
Harry nodded. He didn't have a choice. He had to be ready.

The majority of people left. Fred, George and Ginny had left with Mrs. Weasley during his questioning. No doubt on there way to the morgue. Tonks and Lupin were the only ones who remained. He figured they probably wouldn't be leaving him alone tonight. Harry excused himself and went in the direction of the drawing room. Brooklyn was sitting at the desk, staring at the paper he had put in there much earlier that day. He put a hand on her shoulder and she immediately stood up, startled.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she put her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on hers.

"This wasn't exactly how I envisioned today going." He mumbled into her hair.  
"I wish I could make this better for you." She said, looking up to him.  
He turned his head to the side, ready to start crying again.  
She turned his face back to her. "Just promise me you won't keep everything bottled up."  
"I can't. It hit a little too hard this time."  
"Why don't you go upstairs and I'll get Remus and Tonks settled somewhere."

She didn't wait for a reply as she basically pulled him to the staircase and walked him up to his room. He sat down on the bed and she kissed his forehead, suggesting a silencing charm before closing the door behind her. He took her up on the advice and immediately cast one. He turned to Hedwig, who was perched on the frame of the bed as usual, and petted her briefly.

He mourned Ron for the rest of the evening.


	23. Shock Therapy

**Chapter 23 - Shock Therapy**

Harry was debating on becoming a professional funeral go-er, seeing as he was becoming quite experienced at it. Murmured sobs echoed throughout the crowd, Harry's was not one of them. He had done that all prior to the funeral itself. It was eerily reminiscent of Hermione's funeral. Same place, same time of day, same people…with the exception of Brooklyn being present this time around. She wanted to come to pay her final respects, but was unsure about how her presence would be received. She ended up coming on his request. Yet again it was her sheer touch that kept him from running away from everything. The pressure from her hand during the eulogy kept him from losing composure, the sound of her breathing near his ear was enough to keep him sane just awhile longer.

By then everyone had heard one version or another of how Ron had died. The one constant variable in all of those scenarios was that Harry was the cause of it. If people were staring, he didn't take notice, nor did he care to. For once it didn't matter what people could be thinking, he was there for only one reason: Ron. He knew what really happened and so did the Weasley's, and all that mattered was that they believed him. 

Harry had elected not to speak, just like he had not at Hermione's funeral. He would just make a spectacle of himself and this day was supposed to be about Ron, not him. Fred and George spoke, though it was awkward to say the least. Their obvious attempt at comic relief didn't go over well. It could be seen in their faces that they knew it was in poor taste and they switched into the rarely seen serious mode.

Ron had already been buried in the Weasley plot prior to the memorial service. A covered table with pictures of Ron was his only presence, flowers scattered around them. Ron wasn't exactly the most photogenic person in the world and the pictures tended to reflect that, but the main picture, the largest one, was quite complimentary.

Again, Harry found himself in the Great Hall of Hogwarts after the service. At least this time he wasn't trying to hide from anyone. He didn't need to; no one would really go near him. They did stare though. The few that would speak to him just told him to ignore it as best he could. Minus Luna who pointed out the obvious without a second thought about it. She was wearing those red bangle bracelets again with a similar colored outfit. A pleasant, happy air was about her. The Weasley's certainly received her better than the Granger's had, though it did seem to be more of a tolerance as the day went on when she began speaking of Ron and Hermione's happy reunion in the great beyond.

Brooklyn had wandered off as Neville approached. Harry was surprised at first, considering the last time he had seen him he had still been startled by his outburst. Neville took the seat next to him that Brooklyn had been occupying. He was silent at first, looking to him uncertainly.

Harry broke the silence first. "Hey Neville."  
"H-hey Harry." Neville paused, seeming to gain his composure. "I'd ask how you've been, but I'm pretty sure I know the answer."  
Harry almost laughed. "It's been a rough couple of months."  
"More like years." Neville slapped his hand over his mouth and then shook his head. "The greatest danger is your stupidity." Harry shook his head trying to figure out if he should be offended, but silently acknowledged that people had died because of his bad decisions. Neville shrugged. "That's what Snape always told me during Potions."  
"Well," Harry began. "If it makes you feel any better, he didn't say much better things to me."  
"But that's my point, Harry, we're not."  
Harry raised his eyebrow, his cynicism rising. "How many people have died on your account lately?"  
Neville let out a long sigh. "No one yet, but probably you."  
Harry's eyes widen just a bit. "You know, you're usually not supposed to tell someone that you're going to kill them, you lose the whole element of surprise."  
"No!" Neville said horrified. "I meant the whole prophecy thing. I know it was supposed to be me bearing all of this, not you."  
Harry let out his own sigh, but one of relief. "Look Neville, yes it could have been you, but it's not."  
"But it should be me!"  
Neville's sudden outburst caught Harry a bit off guard. "Neville, Voldemort chose me because we're both not pure-blooded…in some sick, twisted way he saw me as his equal and was threatened by your bloodline." Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder. "If it would make you feel better, I'll trade places with you." The look on Neville's face clearly gave his response. "Didn't think so."  
"I want to help though."  
"Good, I'll need all the help I can get."  
"There's one thing I don't get though…if _he's_ not pure-blooded, why's he all for it then?"  
Harry shook his head. Quite a few explanations came to mind, all having to do with Voldemort being seriously mentally disturbed. "I'll assume it started from his bad childhood and then just escalated into the narcissistic, seriously in denial, somewhat delusional bastard he is today."  
"And here I just expected you to say he was completely mental…"  
"That's more something Ron would say."  
There was silence.  
"You know," Neville said. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to let your girlfriend wander off."  
Harry smirked, highly amused by his statement. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."  
"I know, but I saw her wander off with a certain _ex-_girlfriend of yours when I came over here."  
Harry's smirk immediately faded. "Which way did they go?"

Anticipating he might need backup, he made Neville tag along.

-----------------------------------

The fighting could be heard echoing throughout the hallway and Harry knew he wasn't even close to the room they were in. He could only hope that they could get there before one of them did something really dumb. By the look on Neville's face, he shared his thoughts.

"I don't know what you want from me." Brooklyn sounded as though she was quickly losing her patience.  
"I know your reputation, you don't fool me." Ginny retorted confidently.  
"I'm not having this conversation." Ginny was definitely on Brooklyn's last nerve.  
"Yes you are! He's been hurt enough as it is, I won't allow you to subject him to your stupid minds games that you get off on."  
"What the _hell_ are you talking about?!"  
"Does the name _Cedric Diggory_ ring a bell?" There was silence. Ginny seemed to have stumbled onto something. "That's right, I know all about you're early scheming days and your later ones as well."  
"Do you really have nothing better to do than background checks on me?"  
"Don't change the subject!"  
"I was just making an observation."  
"All you do is use people for your own gain. You're a sick person."  
Brooklyn laughed at that. "You need therapy."  
"You need jail time!"  
"Alright, I've had just about enough of this. You know nothing about me, now leave me alone."

Harry was surprised she was holding out from hexing her for this long. He could only hope she would continue to so he could get there to intervene.

"I wonder what Cedric would've thought if he knew what you were using entrancing enchantments on him. I'm sure Harry would be interested to know since he might be a victim as well." Ginny said mockingly.  
"Look you little twit, I admit I made some very bad mistakes in my past, but don't you dare talk about a situation you know nothing about." That was it, Brooklyn was seething. Harry started running, Neville kept pace.  
"I'm just trying to protect a friend from being a victim of a potential black widow." Ginny said sweetly.

Harry and Neville had reached the room to find them just glaring at each other. Brooklyn raised her wand suddenly, not uttering a word. A quick flash of pale blue light shot from the end of her wand, disappearing, then reappearing as it hit Ginny right in the head. She fell to the ground convulsing. She stopped moving after about ten seconds, her breath haggard. She rose slowly, glaring at Brooklyn, reaching for her own wand.

"Do not mess with me little girl." Brooklyn was livid.

Ginny sent a bat-bogey hex that was deflected before the curse fully left her mouth, quickly followed by another one of the same hexes Brooklyn had sent before. Ginny didn't recover as quickly this time.

"Leave me alone." Brooklyn demanded.  
"I won't let you hurt him." Ginny growled from her unbalanced stance.  
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Get over him."  
"I know what you did to your last boyfriend too. What was his name? Mason, right?"  
"What?! I don't even know a Mason!"  
"Sure you don't."  
"I _will_ cause damage this time."  
"Wonder what Harry would say? I bet he would be very interested in this information."  
Brooklyn cast the spell on her again, not lifting it like she did prior.   
_"Expelliarmus!"_

Neville was the first one to break out of the shock from the sight and disarm Brooklyn, who didn't look pleased that she was now wandless.

"Oh no, Ginny…" Harry knelt down next her still shaking form. "Ginny, come on."  
Neville was soon next to him on the ground. "Is she alright?"  
"I…don't know." Harry said, noticing Ginny was now unmoving. He glanced toward Brooklyn, her expression cold. "Is she?"  
"Possible memory loss, but most likely not."  
Harry got up and dragged Brooklyn by the arm to the other side of the room, leaving Neville to tend to the unconscious Ginny. "What the hell did you do?!" Brooklyn glared over in Ginny's direction. "Answer me!"  
"Therapy." Harry grabbed her shoulders. "Shock therapy."  
His grip grew tighter on her shoulders. "What was she talking about?"  
"I don't know, she's mad!"  
"Brooklyn…"  
"I'm not mad." Ginny said a little groggy. "I just figured you out…hopefully not too late."  
"That's it, you're dead." Brooklyn sent another curse at her. Harry moved her arm as she was doing so and the spell hit the wall, blasting a good sized hole in it.  
"Murderer!" Ginny yelled. Brooklyn's spell missed again. "I won't let you hurt him!"  
"ENOUGH!" Harry shouted, standing in between the two, arms held at length. "You," he pushed on Brooklyn's shoulder. "You're coming with me…and you," he pushed on Ginny's shoulder, "In case you forgot, I'm the murderer. Now for god's sake will all of you _try_ to remember that Ron is dead and we're at his funeral!"  
"No! I'm not leaving you alone with her!"  
"Why not?!"  
"She'll kill you! She was already convicted of involuntary manslaughter in muggle court!"  
"This is a joke right?" Brooklyn said, stuck somewhere between confused and amused.  
"One Brooklyn Jane Fletcher was convicted of involuntary manslaughter of Mason O'Malley in Wales a year ago and got out on parole."  
"Ginny…"Harry shook his head, repressing his urge to shake her. "She doesn't even have a middle name."  
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "I've never even been to Wales."  
Neville asked the obvious question. "How could she get parole for manslaughter?"  
"But Cedric!"   
"I was fifteen with a crush!"

Ginny sent a blasting curse Brooklyn's way. Harry pushed her out of the way, taking the brunt of it. He was surprised he got away with only a couple of minor scratches.

That's when Harry asked the most obvious question of all. "What is wrong with you, Ginny?!"

She was ready to attack again, but Neville put a stop to it by stunning her. 

"Um, I personally think she's gone mad." Neville commented. "Actually, she hasn't really been the same since she got out of St. Mungo's from the attack."  
Harry's head immediately turned to him. "How so?"  
"I knew she was having a hard time getting over you, but it was getting obsessive."  
Harry's mind started racing. "Maybe something happened to her during the stay."  
"Imperius curse?" Brooklyn not so pleasantly suggested.  
Neville looked lost. "Why though? It doesn't make sense."  
"They thought she was still my girlfriend, maybe they thought they could use her to get to me somehow." Snape did tell him that her letter had been intercepted.  
"I guess that could explain why she's been so wrapped up about getting you back." Neville said. "Alright, so let's assume this is true. We better get her to St. Mungo's."  
"But the funeral…" Harry pleaded.  
Neville then made an awfully bold request. "Can you try to appease her so we can get through this without anyone getting hurt?"

Harry looked uncertainly to Brooklyn. She did not look pleased, but she nodded and left the room. Neville followed her, leaving Harry alone with Ginny. He unfroze her and she was a little disoriented, but immediately took notice that they were alone. She threw her arms around him and he loosely did the same.

"Oh Harry, please tell me you ended it. Please tell me you saw through her act." She pleaded in his ear.  
"Yes." He swallowed hard. "Let's get back to the Great Hall and get through today."   
After helping her up she immediately grabbed his wrist. "Let's get out of here, I want to show you something."  
"Show me what?"  
"It's a surprise." She kissed him on the cheek.

If Ginny was under the Imperius curse, he didn't want to go to wherever she wanted to take him. Not to mention she had been under this for quite some time and might suffer from permanent damage. Either way, he should probably figure out where she wanted to take him so he could avoid it in the future. Except Ginny wasn't talking. She was so giddy to just be able to hold onto his arm, it didn't matter that he wasn't reciprocating.

All eyes were definitely on them when they walked back into the great hall. He spotted Brooklyn and Neville talking to Tonks, no doubt informing her of the situation. Ginny's behavior was currently reminding him of Parvarti when he took her to the Yule ball. She was now holding onto his hand, proud to be doing so and smiling at everyone. Harry tried to remind her that they were at her brother's funeral, but she reacted as though he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. 

Harry noticed Tonks was now talking to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were now looking in his direction. Understanding seemed to be dawning on each of their faces. That was it, Ginny needed to get help and soon. But he still needed to know where she wanted to take him.

"Ginny," Harry whispered into her ear. "Before we go, I want to know where we're going."  
"But it will ruin the surprise!"

He knew Brooklyn was watching, but he decided he needed to do what he had to do to get the information. Cupping her face, he drew her close. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation, she was simply beaming.

"The fact that you still want to be with me is the best surprise I could get. Why don't you tell me where we're going and we'll do whatever you want to when we get there."   
"Godric's Hollow." She whispered breathlessly. "You never got to see your parents."

Harry's breath got caught in his throat. He had completely forgotten that he had made plans to go there. Now he wasn't certain if he should go or not. He quickly decided he would go after everything was over. With her face still in his hands, he noticed they were almost surrounded by people. He let his hands drop, but she put them back where they had been.

"I've waited too long for this." She closed her eyes and inched closer to his face.

Thankfully someone stunned her again before she could act and she was immediately taken to St. Mungo's. Mrs. Weasley looked like she had had enough of her family being tortured and was about to lose composure. Mr. Weasley didn't look much better. Harry rubbed his face, glad to have the situation under some control. Then he saw the look on Brooklyn's face.

-------------------------------

"I said I was sorry!" Harry whispered as he walked down a hallway in St. Mungo's.  
Brooklyn shook his hand off. "I didn't need to see an actual portrayal of how you and your ex used to be together."  
"I didn't need to know that you drugged Cedric so he would go out with you, but it's not bothering me."  
"I didn't _drug_ him."  
"Semantics, Brook. Now give me your hand."  
"Ugh, fine." She said, begrudgingly sliding her hand back in his. "I still don't think I should be here."  
"Wherever I go you go and vice versa. I don't want you to end up in here too."

Brooklyn groaned. They made their way to the room Ginny was being kept in. She had been sedated upon her arrival, supposedly she was threatening to duel with anyone that so much as mentioned Harry's name. He was actually hoping that she would be awake when he got there, he wanted to see if she could remember why she mentioned Godric's Hollow. 

As luck would have it, Ginny was awake and well, sitting up in her bed surrounded by family.

Fred was the first to spot them. "Ah Harry! I see you brought the wife." Before Harry had the chance to say anything Fred had already strode across the room to them, holding out his hand. "I'm Fred, it's good to finally meet you. That uglier version of me over there is George. The two very upset ones are our parents and the somewhat lovely couple there is Bill and Fleur. And I believe you know Ginny, she tried to kill you."

Harry didn't even want to see the reactions to Fred's introductions. Brooklyn feebly said hello. Fred insisted that Harry stop hogging the wife and let her get to know the closest thing he had to family. He was pretty sure he heard Brooklyn whimper when he left her with Fred and took his seat by Ginny's bed. George had gone over to terrorize her as well and they were all now out in the hallway.

"How you doing?" Harry asked Ginny, wondering if she would remember anything that had happened.

She didn't respond. Instead she looked at her hands that were now fiddling with the sheet draped over her legs. Harry looked toward her parents, her mother silently crying, her father's eyes red and swollen.

Bill was the one to finally answer. "We just told her everything. I think she's just right embarrassed."  
"So you don't remember anything?" Harry asked gently.  
Ginny's cheeks reddened, still not looking at him. "I'm so sorry Harry. I didn't know how to stop."  
"It's alight. You're okay though?"  
"I'm a little fuzzy on some things." She admitted. "Did I really try to kill your girlfriend?"  
Harry glanced back toward the door, no one in sight. "Well, you did accuse her of murder and tried to fight her."  
Ginny looked absolutely horrified. "Oh no, I didn't hurt her did I?"  
Harry almost laughed. "I think she got the better of you." Her cheeks reddened again. "Ginny, I need to know why you tried to take me to Godric's Hollow."  
She shook her head. "I don't know why, but it couldn't be for anything good."  
"Do you remember who gave you the orders? Who put you under the curse?"

She shook her head helplessly, tears welling in her eyes. Harry decided that was enough questioning. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Ginny asked him to apologize to Brooklyn for her. She was just too embarrassed to face her then, admitting that Fred and George ambushing her was her request. He said goodbye to everyone and left them to their grievances. He found Fred and George chatting up Brooklyn in the hallway.

"Hey now, hands off boys this one is mine." Harry said in attempt to lighten the situation.  
"It was lovely to get acquainted, Mrs. Potter." George said.  
"Don't make me have to explain this again…" Harry sighed.  
"Our little Harry is growing up so fast!" Fred said disgustingly cutesy.   
Harry could only roll his eyes, take his dubbed wife's hand and bid them a better day.

They apparated back to Grimmauld Place, reappearing outside. Slightly confused by this, Harry sifted through his pocket for the keys, while Brooklyn looked around anxiously. Keys in hand, Harry approached the non-existent stairs. When they appeared, Brooklyn raced passed him and twisted the doorknob. It was locked and Brooklyn looked relieved. Harry gave her an odd look as he unlocked the door.

A click and a twist later, the sight that greeted him when he entered his house almost made him scream like a little girl. He dragged Brooklyn in the house and slammed the door shut, securely locking it. When he turned back around, Brooklyn was dead still, not blinking.

Harry stepped in front of her, wand pointing straight ahead of him. "What do you want?"


	24. Malfoy Obliviated

**Chapter 24 - Malfoy Obliviated**

Harry could feel Brooklyn shaking behind him.

"You better be who I think you are." Harry seriously hoped it was. If it wasn't, he was in major trouble.  
"Now that's not a very nice way to greet your favorite Death Eaters." Malfoy said, taking off his mask. He wiped some sweat from his forehead. "This thing is stifling."  
"Potter, haven't you learned by now that you don't need to point your wand at us?" Snape droned, taking his mask off as well. He didn't appear to be sweating at all.  
Harry let his arm drop, a sharp intake of breath came from behind him. "I rather thought it would've been a good way to thank you for having me kill Ron."  
Malfoy looked confused. "What are you talking about, Potter?"  
"Don't act like you don't know." Harry snapped.  
Malfoy turned to Snape, looking quite unhappy. "You oblivated me again, didn't you?!"  
"Draco, you're pathetic at Occlumency."  
"Well maybe if I had a decent teacher…"  
Snape rolled his eyes.  
Harry scoffed. "Malfoy has a point, your lessons didn't help me at all."  
"See!"  
"Why don't you have Potter teach you then?" Snape sneered.  
"I might have to! At this rate I'll have no memory left!" Malfoy whined.   
"Potter, who is behind you?" Snape demanded.  
Brooklyn was now clutching onto the back of his shirt. "No one of interest to you."  
"On the contrary," Snape's lips curled. "I think that was supposed to be Carrow's actual target."  
"What have I always told everyone?" Malfoy said exasperated. "Don't use the Weaselette."  
"Step aside, Potter." Harry didn't budge. "You always have to make things difficult." Harry stumbled to the side. Snape had used wandless magic on him. "Well, well…Miss Fletcher is it?" Brooklyn's eyes widened. "Don't look so surprised, I always remember students who were outstanding in Potions, particularly in NEWTS. Unfortunately a Hufflepuff, correct?"  
Brooklyn vaguely nodded.  
"My, my, aren't you lucky Potter managed to keep you under wraps for so long."  
"Don't you dare think of oblivating me again because of this! I'm going to have brain damage soon!"  
Harry was rapidly losing his patience. "For the second time, what do you want?  
"Heard about Godric's Hollow yet?" Malfoy said, shifting uncomfortably in his robes.   
"Don't worry, I won't go near it."  
"Yes you will." Snape said, looking at Malfoy oddly.  
"And fall for another trap, I don't think so."  
"It's the chosen site for the final battle," Snape said evenly. "You're fairly vital in it."  
"Weaselette was being used to lure you there without the Order, but obviously that didn't work since you don't have a thing for redheads anymore." Malfoy looked Brooklyn up and down. "I'd say you upgraded, but she was in Hufflepuff."  
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the compliment."  
"See, someone gets me!" Malfoy was so whiney, it was really irritating.  
Harry had heard enough. "Alright, I won't go near Godric's Hollow without the Order. Now unless you have something else of relevance to tell me, get out of my house."

Snape walked by him, stared at Brooklyn, lifted the anti-apparation spell and was gone. Harry and Brooklyn both stared at Malfoy, who had yet to move.

"Waiting for something?" Harry asked impatiently.  
"How did you learn Occlumency?" Malfoy asked, looking at the ground.  
"When I destroyed one of the Horcruxes, I don't know how…it was almost like it was a last defense I didn't know I had."  
"And now you're good at it?" He was almost sounding desperate and his fidgeting made it look like he was trying to shake his robes off.  
"I guess." Harry sighed, knowing what he was getting at. "I wouldn't know where to begin trying to teach it to you Malfoy…sorry."  
Malfoy sighed himself. "Don't go near your parents' graves. He has this sick fantasy of having them watch you killed or something to that effect."  
Oh how lovely. "Thanks…"  
"And one more thing."  
"Yes?"  
"Please kill him, because if you don't I'm going to kill myself and that's not something I'm looking forward to."  
"You are so self-centered." Brooklyn interjected.  
Malfoy stood up straight and took a few steps toward her, a hard expression present. "Look sweetheart, the only reason you're alive right now is because the Dark Lord doesn't keep me under legilimency that long and I at least have some control over what he sees first. I've been assigned to spying on Potter long enough to know Red wasn't the right target and I haven't told a soul." Malfoy then turned to Harry. "By the way, you should be thanking me for setting that dog loose or else you would've had to eat that crap those muggles were trying to feed you."

Harry had a sick feeling at the thought of the grotesque food, repressing the urge to be ill. Then he had quite an unsettling thought. He didn't want to know how much Malfoy had seen of them.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I'm not a pervert, Potter. I got the hell out of there when I saw things getting…well, you know."  
"Alright, now you can leave." Malfoy didn't budge. "Stop stalling!"  
Malfoy groaned and stomped the ground like a child. "I hate getting obliviated!"  
"You won't remember a thing." Brooklyn said sweetly.  
With a huff, Malfoy pulled out his mask. He smirked. "By the way, congratulations."

----------------------------------

Draco apparated back into his dismal room in a house that belonged to him for quite a short period of time. Malfoy Manor currently housed the Dark Lord and his closest ring of Death Eaters. Nothing looked the same, everything somehow more dark and gloomy than before. He approached the door to his room and listened. _Silence._ He went back to his bed and fell down gracelessly on it, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

Draco was playing a dangerous game. He had been terrified during 6th year and that fear still coursed through the core of his very being. He had grown bitter and it was leading him blindly into the center of the danger zone. Sure Snape was so far successfully playing both sides, but Draco had officially made his own choice. He did so when he decided to protect Potter and his new girlfriend, even keeping his knowledge from Snape. But now that Snape knew even just a sliver of what he knew, the time had come to his looming crossroad.

Three scenarios. Three endings resulting in his death.

He sat up abruptly, hearing footsteps coming closer.

He carried out his choice.

---------------------------------

Harry had finished his meal, but had yet to leave the table. Stuck in thought of his latest encounter with his dubbed favorite Death Eaters, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that something wasn't right about the situation. He knew that they were playing both sides, it was the only way they could both still be alive. But Malfoy actually asked for his help, admitted to protecting him and Brooklyn on his own accord, even said he would kill himself if Voldemort won.

Harry came to, what he considered, a surprising conclusion: Malfoy wanted out and was willing to do anything to do so…even if it resulted in his death.

The last thing Harry wanted was to have to protect Malfoy.

But that brought up an old question: Where did Snape _really_ stand?

Brooklyn broke him from his musings. "Harry, I'll be back in about half an hour."  
He looked at her oddly. "One: where are you going? Two: I go where you go, remember?"

Before Brooklyn could respond, his Dark Mark began burning. Oh great, now what?

"You're not going anywhere." Harry stated. "The Dark Mark is in action again."  
Brooklyn glared at him impatiently. "It's a thing called morphing. I'll be fine."   
"No."  
Brooklyn morphed into a man appearing to be in his mid-thirties. "Yes."  
"Damn it Brook, what are you up to?"  
"If you must know, I'm going to steal some things from St. Mungo's that I'm out of."  
"Will you just let me go with you?"  
"No, you're a wanted, unmorphing man." She reminded him.  
"It's called invisibility." He said slyly. 

Brooklyn groaned, clearly annoyed. She reached her arm out beside her and apparated. Swearing, Harry found himself apparating to St. Mungo's. He quickly performed the Disillusionment Charm on himself. He didn't see her out front, so he went around to the back, where she said she would make most of her steals from a delivery truck with supplies.

Except there was no delivery truck. In fact there was no one. He knew she wouldn't steal from the inside, that just wasn't her style, they would know immediately from inventory count. Confused, he wondered where she went. He apparated back to Grimmauld Place to see if she had left any clue as to where she went so abruptly. After a quick sweep, the house was no help at all.

On instinct, he went to Tonks next. He was greeted with another empty house. Not having a clue as to where she could have gone, he went back to Grimmauld Place to do the only thing he could. Wait. Luckily, he was only left waiting for about fifteen minutes before she reappeared as herself.

He glared at her. "Don't you _ever_ pull anything like that again, do you understand me?!" She didn't answer, let alone look in his direction. "Brooklyn, if Malfoy sucks at Occlumency as much as Snape says he does, it's only a matter of time before there's a hit out on you!"  
"Malfoy isn't a problem."  
"Okay, let me try to explain this again…" Harry was growing extremely impatient.  
"Malfoy is dead." Brooklyn said emotionless, Harry's mouth immediately went agape. "Here." She pulled a wand that was not her own from her coat. "He wanted me to give this to you."  
"You went to him…" It was more of a statement than a question.  
"He said it's your mother's."  
Harry took the wand, studying it. "How do you know he's dead?"  
"He killed himself after handing it over." Brooklyn looked away from him. "Your parents are buried in a muggle graveyard not far from the house they were staying at."  
"What about my dad's wand?"  
"He said that your dad was killed elsewhere, but not far away."  
"How does he know all of this?"  
"Eavesdropping."  
"That sounds like Malfoy." Harry was still skeptical. "Where is he hiding?"  
"I told you he's dead"  
_"Where is he hiding?"_  
"Damn it…" She crossed her arms indignantly. Harry did the same, staring her down. "Fine, in my dad's old house."

Harry had a visual of regal, spoiled Draco Malfoy surrounded by rotting fishing hooks and dusty boxes. The whole house was probably the size of his bedroom at the manor. Not to mention the rodents that were probably trekking through it. Malfoy was probably shrieking by now. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Brooklyn shoved him for it.

"I know he doesn't deserve it, but-"  
Harry cut her off, holding a hand to his head. "Don't. Just don't. I'll rationalize it for myself."

He looked down at the wand in his hand that was supposedly his mother's. Willow, 10 1/4", swishy…good for charms. At least that's what he had heard. Harry doubted the wand was good anymore though, seeing as it had splintered in several places near the center. Regardless, it was a decent gesture on Malfoy's part. There was probably a catch though. Maybe it was in exchange to be protected. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. 

Rationalizing. It was giving Harry a headache.

No rationalization was required to deduce that the mark had started burning due to this latest development. Malfoy had voluntarily marked himself for death and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that there was a meeting going on about it now. An ominous message reentered his mind…

_The time is closer than you think."_

--------------------------------

The setting was less than optimal, in fact it was a hell of a lot worse than his prior surroundings. He could surely win an award for having the most creatures coming into contact with him in the short amount of time he had been there. Roaches and vermin he had expected, maggots feasting off of a very poorly cleaned murder scene and he had not. Nor did he expect the girl to seem completely unphased by it. It was only a matter of time before what he left behind would catch up with him.

_He tore off his Death Eater robes and threw them on the bed with the mask, setting them ablaze. He moved swiftly toward the already open closet and opened a box he had hidden behind his old textbooks. Retrieving the keepsake, he looked back out to his room. His bed was fully engulfed by flames and there was knocking on his locked door. There was nothing left for him here and yet there was still a longing to stay in childhood home…even if it was just for a moment longer. It was when the door was broken in that he left._

Embarrassment never even crossed him mind when he showed up in Potter's house. That is until he noticed that he had not picked out any other clothing to wear after taking off the Death Eater robes. So there he stood in the upstairs hallway in nothing but boxers and a white t-shirt. Potter would surely get a good laugh out of this. Except he didn't find Potter in the room he heard a drawer closing, he found the girl. That's when he decided that this was a better scenario. 

He snuck up behind her, clasping his hand over her mouth so she didn't scream. Once she saw who he was and she promised to keep quiet, he released her. After explaining the situation, she quite willingly handed over some of Potter's clothes, made him invisible and led him downstairs. Potter didn't looked pleased when they left.

Draco decided that worst part of the whole thing was his present condition. Not only was he in Potter's clothes, he was in his muggle clothes. Well, at least they fit. He kicked the rodent that was sniffing the bottom of his shoe, sending it to where the maggot feast was being held. Normally he would've cleaned up the scene, but he was preoccupied with his own thoughts…

Like how much time he had left to live.

If there was one thing he didn't expect, it was for Potter to show up. He should've known better though, given what he knew about them. He was sure Potter was getting much enjoyment from his current standpoint of him slouched in a corner of the room by a pile of boxes. The amusement didn't last long though, because Potter started whimpering about his attire.

"T-that's my shirt!" Potter whined. "That's my _favorite_ shirt!"  
Draco looked at dull blue, long-sleeved shirt, wondering how this could possibly be a favorite in any wardrobe.  
"And my jeans!" Potter was pointing now. "Is that one of my belts?! I only have two belts!"  
Draco looked down at the worn brown belt, Potter had on a decent looking black one. "You obviously have the better one."  
Potter turned to the girl. "You gave him my clothes?!"  
"Well he showed up in practically nothing!" She defended.  
"What is that next to you?!" Potter pointed to the lump of fabric on the floor next to him.

It was not one of his finest moments when Draco held up the Gryffindor colored scarf that was on top of the Gryffindor colored hat and gloves. Now Potter just looked stunned, he didn't even comment on it. The girl made a side comment about it being cold out. Making an odd sort of sound, Potter then took off his coat, revealing a pullover grey sweatshirt that he discarded as well. Draco looked at Potter oddly as he held out the sweatshirt to him.

"Just take it." Potter said irritably. "I better get this stuff back."  
"Sure," Draco smirked. "If they put out the fire I set before it burned all of my belongings."  
Potter made the odd sound again as he put his coat back on while glaring at his girlfriend. "Come on, we're taking you to the Order."  
"That's the first place they'll go looking." Draco said dully.  
"I have a feeling the Order is going to want to find them after this."

Draco looked at Potter, who was now offering his hand to help him up. He accepted it. In a strange way he knew it was an understanding of which side he had chosen, where his loyalties laid.

He also knew Potter's statement meant that the time had come for the battle that was sixteen years in the making.


	25. The Not So Golden Trio

_**A/N: So now that HP7 has completely rendered this story AU, I'm sure some of you are wondering if I'll change any of the plot. Simple answer: No. Okay, that was all. Now go read my sad attempt at an action scene!**_

**---------------------------------------**

**Chapter 25 - The Not So Golden Trio**

Harry wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do first: Yell at Brooklyn or punch Malfoy.

It was when Malfoy put on his sweatshirt that he walked right to the wall and banged his head against it. He now had to play nice with Malfoy and wasn't looking forward to it. Though he was certain the feeling was mutual.

Malfoy had a look of disgust on his face as he eyed the frayed end of fabric that was in a small knot. "Honestly Potter, aren't you supposed to be rich?"  
Harry glared at Brooklyn, who just rolled her eyes. "I _am_." He was actually quite insulted by the remark.

Malfoy flicked the string out of his fingers, continuing to grimace at his attire. Harry studied Malfoy carefully, noticing that the only place he would look besides his attire was at Brooklyn's feet. It was then Harry noticed something wasn't quite right. And what wasn't right was that Brooklyn seemed perfectly okay given what she was standing right in front of. Harry grabbed Malfoy by his own sweatshirt and dragged him a few steps away.

"Do you know who did it?" He hissed lowly.  
"You're going to have to be a little more specific." Malfoy sounded bored.  
"Who killed…" Harry motioned his head toward Brooklyn.  
"Oh that." Harry's grip grew tighter. "Relax, it wasn't me!"  
"Malfoy…" Harry warned.  
"I believe it was Lestrange on that assignment. Bella that is."  
"And she used _that_ spell?!"  
Malfoy shrugged. "You know the woman's mad. She probably heard about when you used that charming curse on me."  
Harry released his hold on Malfoy. "I didn't know what it was."  
"So I've been told."  
Harry turned his head to check on Brooklyn. She was just staring impassively at them. "I need to get her out of here." He added as an aside.  
"And where are we going?" Malfoy asked.

Harry groaned as he sensed the underlying forge of a new trio.

--------------------------------

Headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix once again resided at 12 Grimmauld Place. This time around nothing was sacred, no meetings behind closed doors or information kept from others. All sat or stood around the long table, room stuffed to capacity. Even the most loyal members of the DA were present, Neville, Luna and Ginny. Malfoy quickly became the main focus as he was brought into the room by Lupin, who had his hand placed on his shoulder.

Malfoy looked at no one as Lupin offered him the chair he had been occupying before leaving to get him. He was now sitting right across from Harry.

"Draco Malfoy." Mad-Eye grunted. Malfoy raised his head to acknowledge his name, but did not make eye contact. "Why are you _gracing_ us with your presence?"

Malfoy wasted no time and divulged what he claimed was everything he knew or overheard. Some members of the Order, however, wanted to know why Malfoy had the change of heart and why he suddenly fled.

Malfoy didn't answer for a moment, but seeing as he was being treated as though this was a trial, he was prompted to answer. He responded with four words.

_He killed my parents._

Then it was pointed out that that didn't answer the latter part of the question. This time he quickly responded with four more words.

_I knew too much._

Harry tried to hide his uneasiness. Malfoy definitely knew too much about him. He just hoped that the Order wouldn't pry the info out of him. Harry noticed Malfoy was staring at him with the slight hint of a smirk. Harry was ready to lunge across the table if he so much as breathed a word about his personal life.

"Knew too much?" Shacklebot inquired.  
Harry dug his nails into the fabric of his pants as Malfoy responded. "I was assigned to spy on Potter after the mu-Granger's death."  
"You've known his location all this time?" Tonks asked incredulously. Malfoy nodded. "And You-Know-Who has known as well?"  
"I held off as long as I could." He turned to Potter. "Which happened to be when he decided to vacate the place, so it threw the Dark Lord off for a few days."  
"But what could you have thought was so vital that you had to leave?" Shacklebot pressed on.  
Harry stared nervously at Malfoy, who seemed to be enjoying his reaction. "I know everything he does. I caught word that the Dark Lord was planning on using Legilimency on me, so I ran."  
Many stared at him skeptically. It was Lupin who spoke up in his defense. "The only reason I am alive is because of him and Severus' aid. I dare say that his words are trustworthy."  
All eyes were on Harry now. He knew they were all looking for confirmation. "I…" He started, not exactly sure what to say. He could feel Mad-Eye's intense stare above all others. "I would take what he says as facts."

All was silent. Eyes shifted around the room, none settling on anyone in particular.

"Godric's Hollow you said?" McGonagall spoke in a low tone. Malfoy nodded. She sighed heavily. "Then it shall end where it began."

Solemn silence again coated the packed room.

Malfoy's eyes shot upward suddenly. Harry tilted his head, hoping that the barely audible creak he had heard upstairs was someone who had exited the room. Malfoy's panicked gaze fell to Harry.

"They're here."

-------------------------------

The overcrowded room became near impossible to move in as chairs and people we being shoved trying to get to the only exit. Harry's chair had him pinned to the table. He looked around frantically for Brooklyn, who had been standing near Neville during the meeting. Malfoy hadn't so much as moved.

"She's already out." Malfoy said dully.

Lupin grabbed Malfoy by the back of Harry's sweatshirt collar and dragged him toward the exit. Harry, finally being able to move, did so as well. Every reaction had been surprisingly quiet. All wands were drawn out, pointing toward the empty staircase. Harry, Malfoy and Lupin were still in the other room. They looked up to the ceiling. There was more creaking in what would be the ground floor.

Lupin pushed both of them out of the room, making Malfoy stand behind him and grabbing onto Harry so he couldn't go toward the front, where he thought he caught a glimpse of Brooklyn.

Silence ensued. Breathing quickened. The creaking had ceased.

Malfoy groaned in pain, grabbing his forearm. Harry's grey sweatshirt began turning red where Malfoy was holding. Lupin pulled back the sleeve to reveal the bleeding Dark Mark, that appeared to be carving an outline of itself quite slowly, and not so shallow, into his arm. And just as everyone had gotten distracted, apparition pops began to sound, black smoke accompanying each Death Eaters arrival.

_"Stupefy!"_ Cried out from many in the Order.  
There was one solid thud to the ground, missing spells being reflected, with some blasting holes into the walls.

Malfoy was quickly shoved back into the other room by Lupin and was about to do the same to Harry, but he ran forward toward the kitchen, dodging flashes of light as he went. He dove behind the kitchen counters, just missing a killing curse. Fred and George were also behind there, both trying to assemble something that was probably going to blow up a good portion of the house. 

"MALFOY!!!" One of the Death Eaters screamed after casting a powerful shield charm, separating the fighting parties. 

Fred and George stopped their assembly process. "Blimey, that's Percy!" Fred whispered.

All three of them peered over the countertop. Smoke was starting to settle, particles showing the shield in which halted everything. Harry caught a quick glimpse of Brooklyn, who, along with Neville, was aiming her wand pointedly at one of the few unmasked. Bellatrix Lestrange.

Fred pushed down on Harry's head so he wouldn't be seen. George had returned to assembling the mystery object.

"Now, now." Bellatrix started teasingly. "We just came to fetch my nephew."  
"And what makes you think he's here?" Shacklebot ordered.  
"I can smell my _kind_." She seethed through the shield. Then her tone became sickeningly sweet. "Little Dragon, come out, come out. Mummy and daddy are worried about you."  
"The Malfoy's are dead!" Moody shouted.  
Bellatrix laughed manically. "Well, in that case…he's about to join them." She screamed, "TRAITOR!" It echoed in the room. Then she said something quite unexpected. _"Accio Dark Mark!"_

Malfoy's scream of pain was instant as a chunk of blood dripping flesh came from the room. The shield disappeared and reappeared quickly to allow it's passage. Bellatrix grasped the severed Mark in her hand, blood oozing between her fingers.

"Unworthy scum!" She shouted toward the room.  
"Alright it's done!" Whispered George.  
Fred turned to Harry, "Really sorry mate. We're about to blow up your basement."

Fred stood up, contraption in hand, yelled a warning to get back and threw the hand sized object directly at the caster of the shield, who Fred believed to be Percy. Five more people dived behind the counters with them, others dove toward the room Malfoy was in. A loud explosion pierced Harry's eardrum as pieces of debris began to rain over his head. The counters fractured, but did not fall. The table and chairs went flying by, knocking people over. The air was thick with dust, making breathing unbearable. Groaning was heard from all sections of the basement. 

"It's not over, Malfoy!" A Death Eater shouted before they disapparated.

Harry pushed the chair that had landed on his leg off, coughing in the process.

"Everyone all right?" Tonks' voice sounded unsteady.  
"We need to do something!" Lupin yelled from the other room. "He's going to bleed to death!" 

Everyone from behind the counter, stirred. All were dusting off rubble and dust out of their hair.

"Well, looks like it took out the staircase." Fred stated, being the first on his feet.   
Harry used the countertop to pull himself up.  
Luna was already standing behind him. "It rather looks like the whole side of the room is gone."

Harry turned to see Neville rising, picking up Brooklyn in the process. Under Brooklyn was Ginny. They had all huddled in the corner that a chair was now stuck in the wall right above their heads. Harry began to make his way toward Brooklyn. That's when he first noticed the pain in his leg. The chair that fallen on him left a gash, but nothing broken. As he limped over, Brooklyn dashed into the room Malfoy was in. Harry nearly got hit by a bag that came from the upper floors and whizzed by his head. He immediately recognized it as her bag of medical supplies.

By the time he reached the room, Brooklyn had stopped the bleeding and was preparing a potion to prevent infection. Malfoy was paler than he had ever seen him and looked on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Brooklyn took Malfoy's arm again and examined it closer. Her expression grave. "I don't know if I can fix this." She looked to Malfoy. "It might have to be amputated."  
He merely nodded.

Harry actually turned away when he noticed he could clearly see a good portion of bone. Brooklyn quickly mixed three different potions and had Malfoy drink them. He gagged with each one, almost not being able to swallow the last of it. Everyone stood and watched silently, though Fred and George could be heard whispering occasionally about how wicked it looked. It was then that Harry turned back, watching the wound slowly begin to mend itself. The potion must have been a form of what he had to drink when he lost the bones in his arm. Various muscle, joints, veins and tissue began to take shape until the skin finally closed and Malfoy was left with a scar similar to his own.

"Don't expect full use of it." Brooklyn stated as she put her things back in the bag. "There's still a chance that whatever Dark Magic was used is still there."  
"So basically you still might have to hack off some of my arm." Malfoy stated.  
Brooklyn nodded.  
"You say you work for St. Mungo's, girl?" Moody asked suspiciously, while eyeing up the bottles she was putting away. Brooklyn shifted uneasily, quickly putting the rest of the supplies away as they bore the St.Mungo's logo. "They've said to been having blaggers stealing their medical supplies."  
Brooklyn's movements stopped as she turned her head toward Moody, glaring. "If you're going to be accusing me of stealing, then come right out and say it."  
"Alright then. You stole them, didn't you?"  
Brooklyn began to stand, but Harry stepped in front of her. "I don't think you'd be complaining much if you were the one she was tending to."  
"Yeah, I'm really not complaining over here." Malfoy interjected. "Oh I almost forgot, the Dark Lord occasionally takes some of their stores as well. Something about experimenting."  
Moody grunted. "Your arm, girl."  
"Mad-eye! Surely you're joking!" Tonks came to Brooklyn's defense.  
"Can't be too careful." Moody said. "Your arm."  
"She's _not_ a Death Eater!" Harry yelled. "Trust me, I would know."  
"You better take him on his word there." Malfoy said. "He really would know." Moody glared at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes. "She's not a Death Eater."

Harry somehow managed to not punch Malfoy, or Moody for that matter.

---------------------------

After a quick discussion, Headquarters was being moved back to The Burrow where they would make plans for battle. Harry just wanted to get this over with. He had started to have this crazy fantasy of vanishing from the wizarding world after the war and living a normal life. He desperately wanted to know what normal was and his patience was beginning to wear thin. It was so close to attainable, yet the final obstacle threatened to destroy it.

Luna seemed to like Brooklyn, who she was currently asking if she knew how to heal attacks by a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Brooklyn looked utterly confused and handed Luna one of her books so she could search for herself. Luna was delighted and immediately plopped on the floor and was flipping through the pages. Neville just shook his head at her as he held open the bag Brooklyn was packing. Ginny stood in the corner observing.

Harry dropped his bag at the door and stood by Ginny. She didn't look at him at first, but she couldn't ignore the fact that he was staring at her from only a foot away for too long. Luna was reading a passage from the text aloud.

Harry grinned as he whispered to Ginny. "You don't have to avoid her."   
She flushed pink. "Yes I do, I've been horrible."  
"You were cursed, remember?"  
"It's too awkward."  
"You'll get over it."  
"Plan on keeping this one around?" She asked teasingly.  
Harry glanced over at Brooklyn. She and Neville had completely perplexed looks on their faces as Luna was explaining her theory of how one potion could work in the event of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack attack. He couldn't help but smile, "If she'll let me."  
Ginny let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh all right, I suppose I could try."  
Harry thanked her. It did mean a lot to him. "So, how have you been? I know things have been really rough for your family right now."  
She sighed dejectedly, lowering her gaze to the floor. "It's really mum and dad that are taking it the worst. Mum just isn't herself anymore. Dunno if she ever will be. Dad's just kind of there, going through the motions. Fred and George, you know, trying to lighten everything up, but I think they feel bad for doing it."  
"And you?"  
"Honestly? I feel numb." She grabbed his hand suddenly. "Tell me it gets better." Her eyes were pleading with him, seemingly begging for a lie.  
He put his free hand on her shoulder and squeezed back. "In time."

She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to keep her composure about her. Harry did not break contact with her. He look to Brooklyn, half expecting a hex. Neville was zipping up her now packed bag while Luna was pointing out to her the five different pages she found possible remedies on. She seemed to be genuinely listening to her as she pointed out how the current tactic was only to be used on people that hallucinate from ingesting certain plants. Luna then moved on to the next one, hopeful as ever. Harry tried not to laugh.

Neville dropped Brooklyn's bag on Harry's feet and shrugged at his questioning look. "Well, she's your girlfriend, you carry it."

It was then that Ginny laughed genuinely for the first time in months.

And the first time that Harry noticed Malfoy watching discreetly from the darkened hallway.


	26. Stolen Moments

**Chapter 26 - Stolen Moments**

"Think of it this way," Brooklyn started optimistically, "He's more like your personal bodyguard."  
Harry stared at her, mouth slightly agape. He then buried his head in his hands miserably.  
Brooklyn came and sat next to him on the bed, taking his hands in hers. "I'm sure he'll humble a bit."  
"Are we talking about the same person here?" He asked sarcastically. Harry moved her hair covering her neck, pulling out the chain that lay beneath her shirt. "I miss being alone with you."  
A sad smile formed on her face as she scooted closer to him, placing her forehead against his own. "Soon," she breathed.

It was tantalizing beyond recognition. His hand immediately tangled its way into her hair in response and her hands now rested upon his thighs. It felt like it had been forever since the last time their lips had met. Hastily, he drew her as close as possible. He did not know the next time he would be allotted this and he was going to make the most of it. Her reactions signaled no protest, only amplifying his own as one of her hands ran through his hair, the other coursing evocatively up his back.

"Ugh, not again." Malfoy's voice sounded disgusted from the doorway.

Brooklyn broke away first, relinquishing all contact. When Harry opened his eyes he noticed she appeared flushed and was staring intently at the ground.

Harry turned his head in Malfoy's direction. His expression clearly showing his appreciation for being interrupted. "What do you want?"  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Forgive me your majesty, but your presence has been requested downstairs."  
"I'll be down in a minute."  
"How unsatisfying."

Brooklyn stood up abruptly, shoving the chain back underneath her shirt. She walked straight toward Malfoy, pushing him aside to clear her path.

Malfoy smirked. "Feisty."  
"She'll obliviate if you get any ideas." Harry said nonchalantly. "That and I'll make sure you're in quite a lot of pain."  
"Touching." Malfoy sounded bored. "Now get downstairs."

Malfoy turned to leave as Harry quickly scanned the room for something close enough to throw at the back of his head. By the time he found the Chudley Cannons figurine his opportunity had passed. He studied the figurine in his hand. It had been one of the very first paraphernalia Ron had gotten of the quidditch team.

He placed the item back on the nightstand, next to a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself. It was taken last year before they parted for the Hogwarts Express. Harry didn't want to be apart of it, but they dragged him in at the last second. He wasn't smiling at all…until Ron and Hermione came up on opposite sides and pulled on his cheeks in an attempt to create one. Harry couldn't help but laugh at their attempt and a grin now resided on all of their faces. The scene played over again.

Harry reached out to take the picture, but stopped short.

_"Soon."_

For two out of three that soon never came. His reaching hand fell listless. Reluctantly, he stood up and made his way to the downstairs of The Burrow.

------------------------

Luna was sitting next to Brooklyn, who looked as confused as ever with their conversation. Neville and Ginny were next to them, seemingly engrossed in their own conversation. Harry was about to take a seat next to Brooklyn when he noticed Lupin motioning to him slightly. There was an empty seat for him…Malfoy right alongside. Groaning inwardly, Harry took the seat.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was conspiring against us to force us to get along." Malfoy muttered in an undertone.  
Despite himself Harry snorted. Then, as if to cover for it, he turned a small glower towards Malfoy as he methodically spooned out some spaghetti. "I still want my clothes back."  
Malfoy took a bite of his own, grinding his teeth perhaps a bit too much. "Like I'd want to keep these hippogriff toilet wipes anyway."  
Harry's fist clenched around his fork a bit tighter. "Changed my mind, just burn them. Can't risk getting infected with that pureblooded, albino mania you have."

From across the table came a quiet 'Hem Hem,' that reminiscent of Umbridge. Both boys ignored it, so fixated on glaring at the other. The way Malfoy's fingers were curling around his spoon, as if preparing to deliver a dagger like thrust, did not escape Harry sight. In response, he coiled his fingers around his fork until he felt the metal actually beginning to bend.

"Going to kill me with a spoon, blondie?" He growled quietly.  
Malfoy's mouth curled into a sneer. "Better than that damnable spork."  
_"Fork,"_ Harry growled indignantly.  
_"HEM HEM!"_

Both continued glaring at each other, the metal in Malfoy's hand beginning to bend as well. Then Harry saw a chunk of bread hit Malfoy in his temple. As he turned to cheer for someone's brilliant aim, he got hit right on of the tip of his nose by another piece of bread. Malfoy muttered something along the lines of Potter's dumb girlfriends. Harry saw his ex, and current, both smiling sweetly, armed with more bread projectiles…much larger than the prior ones. 

"You two about done there?" Brooklyn questioned with a smirk.  
"No, no," Luna interjected. "Leave them be. All this tension sets the perfect mood for planning You-Know-Who's downfall doesn't it?"

Many, _many_ gazes turned to the blue-eyed blonde's happy expression.

In response she smiled jubilantly. "Perhaps once we kill him we could partake in the ancient rituals of the Boozelebee tribe, where we roast marshmallows over his dead carcass." Luna calmly wound a strand of spaghetti around her finger, sliding it into and out of her mouth like a popsicle before looking around the table with the happily vacant look of the recent binge drinking contestant. "We could make smores," she added. "Won't that be fun?"

Besides him Malfoy started spluttering. And then to Harry's great amazement, he started laughing. It wasn't a full body laugh, but the kind of intermittent, shuttering laugh of those who have had little use for such a vocal expression in their lives.

Shacklebolt reluctantly agreed, "No, no, the girl's got a good point. We need to finish our final assault plans."  
Luna bounced up and down like a small child. "And _then_ we'll plan the after party roast?"  
Moody's magical eye swiveled to her, following her bouncing movement with jerky up and down eye twitches. "Desecrating the fallen enemy? I see no problem with that."

Luna squealed happily, landed on her seat, and promptly lost all expression as she diverted her attention to the tomato red sauce. She had poured it into a small cup and taken to drinking directly after her spaghetti was inserted into her mouth via her improvised eating utensil. Next to her, Brooklyn was trying very hard not to laugh, taking to shoving the bread she was armed with into her mouth. Ginny followed suit after a snort slipped from her. Neville was just shaking his head, thoroughly amused.

"Alright, let's get down to business." McGonagall said heavily.

-------------------------

Harry sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead. He realized he was shaking slightly. Everyone was getting up from the table after finishing their combined meal and meeting, he had yet to move. His plate moved in front of him, but he didn't bother to see who was cleaning up after him.

There was a whisper of breath on his ear, a slight brush of hair on his cheek, accompanied by its intoxicating smell. His breath hitched at the casual contact their bodies made as she retrieved his plate and turned to bring it to the kitchen.

His mind was dissonant. The meeting still raced through his mind, causing the racking nerves in his body. Genuine lust was its challenger, begging him to forget everything that had transpired during the meeting, if even just for the night. Dissonance. It was something that could be costly in the end.

Still vaguely shaking, he made his choice. He had to find a way to be with her tonight.

A soft, Umbridge-like 'hem', ruptured his thoughts, sending his glance sliding across the room to its creator, Ginny. His eyes followed Ginny's gesture. In the doorway stood Brooklyn, something fiery and needing burning in her eyes as her gaze cut across the crowded room to his. His eyes fell to her empty hands, startled to see how quickly she had gotten rid of his plate. Knowing her though, the poor, unloved plate was probably resting in some potted plant. And he was unsurprised to find that he really didn't give a damn about its whereabouts at the moment.

Rising to his feet, he heard Ginny launch into some loud exclamation, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room to her. Sneaking a glance her way, he saw the gleam of triumph in the red head's eyes. Merlin bless that red head, he thought to himself. He and Brooklyn would be getting her something nice as a thank you. Most likely something shiny and wrapped in that ridiculous brown paper she liked so much at Christmas time. Hell, if this got him alone time with Brooklyn he'd wrap up Malfoy and give him to the girl if that was what she wanted.

Stealthily, he made his way toward the staircase, Brooklyn already there waiting for him. Ginny could be heard going on about something that was apparently outside as they made their way up the stairs. She grasped onto his hand tightly and he knew then he would never make to the top landing. He settled on the vacancy that was Percy's old room on the second floor.

Slamming the door shut, he shoved her up against it and she dragged him by the collar of his shirt toward her. They both stopped short, her eyes fixated on his lips. He raised his hand and brushed a stray hair away from her face. Her eyes raised and her intense gaze met his own. Her hands were fiddling around the waistband of his jeans as his ventured down the curvature of her body, making their way underneath the sweater she was wearing. Their lips finally met, involuntarily causing his lower body to press onto hers. Somehow she managed to pull him closer, his shirt beginning to rise in the front on its own accord. He made sure hers' followed suit and he soon felt the warmth of her skin against his own. He found himself walking backwards until the backs of his knees met the unknown and buckled beneath him. He found himself lying on a bed, Brooklyn holding his wrists above his head, straddling his waist. Leaning down seductively, her lips delicately met his again. He trembled beneath her, anticipation getting the best of him. One of her hands released his wrist and was now fumbling with his belt buckle. His now free hand began aiding in the process.

"Damnit! Why is it always me?!" Malfoy whined from outside the open window.

It was Brooklyn who reacted before he could. She strode to the window, flipped Malfoy off and slammed the window shut. Harry had barely propped himself on his elbows before she was back on top of him, her actions clearly stating that foreplay was no longer an option and he readily complied. 

There was a knock on the door. Both of them froze instantly. If that door opened, they were about to be caught in a more than compromising position.

"Fair warning." Malfoy's voiced sounded from behind the closed door. His footsteps could be heard walking away.

Harry banged his head against the soft pillow in extreme frustration, while Brooklyn's fist punched the mattress. 

"Unbelievable…" He muttered, rising into a sitting position, attempting to adjust his clothing in the process. Brooklyn, however, had a string of obscenities flowing from her mouth as she did the same.

The sound of voices filled the downstairs once again. Brooklyn plopped down next to him, placing her forehead on his shoulder, sighing. He put his arms around her, her scent enticing his senses once again.

"Come upstairs tonight. I'll make sure it's just us." He promised softly, all the while envisioning ways to kill Malfoy to ensure their solitude. She nodded in response.

--------------------------

Harry subtly excused himself from the conversation downstairs. There was something he realized he needed to do in the event that things did not go in his favor tomorrow. He found himself alone upstairs in Ron's room once again, sitting at his desk. Making space for a parchment and inkwell, he tried his best to keep Ron's things in the order they had been. Taking a deep breath, he dipped the quill into the ink and began to write.

_The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter_

About an hour into writing, he dropped the quill on the desk, massaging his aching hand. Scanning over the parchment, he checked to see if there was anything he left out. Satisfied with what he had, he picked up the quill to add the final details on a separate sheet of parchment.

_Living Will of Harry James Potter_

The last thing he wanted was to end up like Neville's parents. He signed the bottom of each page.

He folded up the parchment and put it in an envelope. He would have someone downstairs take it to the Ministry tonight for the records.

Standing up, Harry stretched out his back and neck from the stiffness of being in the same position for some time. He was actually surprised that no one had come up to check on him, but maybe they figured he needed to be alone. Either way, he knew his soon to be kicked out roommate would probably be up shortly to go to bed.

And right one cue, Malfoy arrived. "Hey Potter, what are my chances of scoring with the Weaslette? I figure if I'm going to die tomorrow I might as well. I sure as hell don't want to be the only one not getting laid today."  
Harry turned toward him, his initial shock from the question vanishing when making eye contact. "You'd stand a better chance with Luna."  
_Looney Lovegood?!"_ Malfoy was aghast.  
"She was making you laugh downstairs." Harry pointed out.  
"I was laughing _at_ her!"  
Harry shrugged. "You've obviously never seen her in one of her summer solstice get ups then."  
Malfoy's jaw dropped, and he had to smother a laugh as he tried vainly to sound disinterested. "What exactly would that get up entail?"  
Having been lying through his teeth, Harry couldn't help but seize the chance to egg him on. "You know Muggle Bikinis?"  
"Yeah! I mean erm...no."  
"Picture that only in a white, see through material."  
Malfoy fell onto his bed, letting out a low whistle. "Merlin, Loony just got a hell of a lot more interesting."  
"Off you go then." Harry said encouragingly.  
"Hey now, I need to think this through! Don't rush me!"  
"Don't care. Out. Now!"  
"And where am I supposed to go?!"  
"I believe Luna and Ginny are both in the same room. You might get really lucky tonight."  
A wicked smile appeared of Malfoy's face. "Potter, I might owe you a big thank you in the morning."  
Harry grabbed his arm as he turned way too quickly to leave. "Ginny is basically my sister. Touch her and you die."  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Was she your sister when you were snogging her last year?"  
Harry let his arm go, he had no counter argument. "Damnit…" he swore, stomping to the other side of the room and dropping onto the bed.

The hell of it was, he couldn't make himself shudder over it either. He didn't like Ginny that way, but she had been a good kisser. Not realizing it he began swearing some more.

"Losing your mind, Potter?" Malfoy asked amused.  
"If you hadn't brought up incestuous thoughts I wouldn't be!" he growled.

It was then he noticed that Ron in one of his pictures was shaking his fist at them. Hell, they both deserved it.

"Just get out of here Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt you'll score."  
"We'll just see about that," he said quite confidently as he left the room.

Well, at least he was gone. He just hoped he wouldn't come back after being rejected and most likely hexed. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, he heard the doorknob turning. Brooklyn appeared in the doorway, quietly closing, and locking, the door behind her.

"Harry, why was Malfoy looking at Ginny and Luna like Christmas had come early?" She inquired.  
He almost laughed at the mental image. "If I survive this, Ginny's going to hex me into next week."

To his surprise, Brooklyn did not laugh. She did not even crack a smile. Her face became a blank canvass, an emotionless mask as she walked, step by slow step towards him. As she grew closer, the lines in her brow began to show. The fear flitting behind her eyes was breaking through as she reached out a hand towards him.

"Don't say that. Don't even joke," she pleaded in a cracking voice.  
"Brook, I was just..." he stopped short, knowing there was nothing he could say to make up for it.  
"I just don't want this to be the end." She placed a shaky hand on his chest.  
He covered her hand with his. "Let's not think about that. Not tonight."  
She nodded solemnly placing her other hand on his chest.  
"Wait…" Wandlessly, a silencing spell was slung towards the door. Somehow, looking at her, he knew that if he didn't do it now that he never would.

Turning his heavy gaze back to her, he watched her dark eyes sparkling in the dim moonlight filtering in through the windows. Her dark hair streamed haphazardly down her shoulders, and back, her form clad in average night clothes that somehow failed to take away any of the sensations coursing hotly through his blood. Suddenly her eyes changed, something melancholy mingling within her barely there irises, so widened were her pupils in the darkness. Concern flooded him in a way he would have found inexplicable only months before.

"Brook," he whispered, seeing her expression growing taunt before his eyes. "Brook, what's wrong?"  
"Is this wrong? Doing this, on his bed?" she whispered tremulously, pointing a solitary finger towards the too-orange comforter gracing the very spot where his best friend once slept.

Harry's gaze flicked towards the picture on the nightstand, the one of all three of them, where Ron and Hermione were still a tempting to make him smile. Surprisingly he felt no shame, nor doubt as he answered her.

"No, I rather think he'd be rooting us on actually."

The image of Ron choose that moment to catch on to what was occurring on his bed, and immediately covered his eyes, dragging a gawking Hermione behind Harry's surly looking form. To be truthful, picture Harry looked rather annoyed that he wasn't getting to join in on the action.

Looking between her and the picture, Harry smiled sheepishly at his image friends. "Sorry guys," he said not unkindly, "but I'll spare you the rest."

And then he picked them up, setting them facing out on the windowsill so that the three separated friends could view the starry night once more.

"We're alive now, Brook. That's all that matters," he whispered. "What will come, will come. Whatever it is..."

He never finished, for she had crossed to him, her lips slanting over his with the unrelenting pressure he longed for and needed. If this was it, if this was the end, he was going to make sure it was unforgettable. Her scent traversed his senses again, washing away the trepidation of the upcoming battle. Freedom from anxiety, it allowed him to feel completely, experience things as he never had before. He had let go of everything, leaving himself as vulnerable as he could ever be just so he could give her the one thing he could never give anyone else: the essence of his very being.

And as more and more of their skin came into contact, he reveled in her warmth, the cool, salty sweat that began to form between them, the sensation of her lips exploring his body. His need for her was overwhelming, yet he let her continue her ministrations. Her lips found their way back to his and he longed for it to never end. But he yearned for something more and he pulled away gently, looking into her eyes he could wait no longer. The sensation alone left his breathing haggard as it coursed through his whole body with the slightest of movement. 

Through the miasma he could hear her sounds, his name breathlessly leave her mouth, her absentminded struggle for dominance. He took it all in like he never had before, waiting for her until he could have his moment of idyllic satisfaction. She threw her head back and he instantly knew. And when the moment was upon him, sensory took over, leaving him in a tremulous state of gratification he had not fully experienced until that moment.

His arms enveloped her, placing sensual kisses on the side of her face. She sighed happily, turning her body toward him, her hands placed gently upon his chest. The moonlight showed her content, relaxed state. And as they gazed into what they could see of each others eyes, the fatigue began to set it. Her eyes fluttered shut first, another sigh escaping her lips as she nestled herself against him even more. Holding her tightly, he looked to the window, seeing the back of the picture frame he had placed there earlier. A ghost of a smile crossed his features. Wherever they were, he knew Ron and Hermione were smiling down on him. His eyelids grew heavy and he knew he needed all the rest he could get. Placing one last kiss on the top of her head, he allowed his eyes to close.

-----------------

"Everyone ready?"

The lot of them huddled into three separate groups, in the center of each a portkey to none other than Godric's Hollow. Harry was discreetly holding Brooklyn's hand in the tight cluster, Malfoy was located on his other side.

"Any luck last night?" Harry asked him casually.  
"A gentleman never tells." He replied coyly.  
Harry smirked. "That's a no then."  
"You should be thanking me for sleeping on the couch." Malfoy said not so quietly.

Before anyone had a chance to react, the portkey was activated and they were off spinning into oblivion, waiting to let go. And after another not so pleasant landing, Harry found himself standing in the middle of a square. An eerie mist lay lowly over the village, and considering it was in the middle of the day, this was quite unsettling. As the last arriving group gathered themselves, one group set off to rid the village of as many muggles as they could, while the other two began striding toward their respected destinations.

Malfoy had warned of a cottage being utilized across the street from the Potter's old dwelling as sort of a base for Death Eaters. As soon as fighting would commence, Voldemort himself would stand waiting patiently in the graveyard for Harry to stray along.

Harry would go into the graveyard alone. He refused to do it any other way.

Harry stopped short of the rest of the group who were all standing outside of a gate surrounded property. He stared motionless at the blasted out second floor of the house, just being able to make out the remains of what appeared to be an infant's crib.

To his surprise he found Mrs. Weasley standing in front of him. "Harry dear, I'm so sorry you have to see this."

He nodded in acknowledgment, but showed no sign of emotion. Today, he had to be strong no matter what horrific sight was placed in front of him.

And he knew this was only the beginning of many.


End file.
